The Dissonance of Love
by RoaminGrecoRoman
Summary: AU Harry Potter's little sister is the Girl Who Lived. Harry Potter's adventures at Hogwarts starting with the Goblet of Fire. Torn between the expectations of himself and family, and with the freedom and beauty of an unconditional love with a Veela, watch as Harry attempts to reconcile the two while fighting against evil and deadly forces to save the lives of the people he loves.
1. Chapter 1

**AU: Something I wrote for fun. The romance starts between quickly so don't worry too much about that. If people are interested in the story, I will post more updates. I take a huge amount of creative liberties with the characters, so if that's not what you like then this story is probably not for you.**

 **Would love a beta to bounce ideas off of and for editing purposes (looking for someone who can help me with pacing, general prose style, story ideas)**

* * *

"Four days. And there's no point in arguing! We've told you already: no more of this unnatural weirdness. Next time? It's going to be eight days! Now, get out," Vernon Dursley pushed the ten-year-old Harry Potter out of the doorway and locked it shut.

The first time they doled out this punishment, Harry was forced to survive on his own in the lonely streets for two days. Harry sat on the pavement just beyond the garden. The air was blowing strangely that night, and an uncanny shiver rode through Harry's back. There was a density in the summer air that flattened the suburbia of Privet Drive, and everything was too quiet. The manicured trees stood dead-like, their green leaves not rustling, without a wind to swish through their boughs.

A small flashlight turned on and a chubby boy opened the back door and snuck out of the house. Seeing Harry, he ran towards him. Harry put his finger up to his lips to warn the boy to whisper.

"Harry! This was all I could manage. I put all my cookies in there. Dad and Mom will just think I ate them all. I also put a full water bottle mixed with orange concentrate inside," Dudley handed him his backpack and took off Harry's coat from his shoulders, "I got your coat as well, here."

He gave Harry a big hug. "I hope you'll be alright for the next four days, I'll keep finding you food, just meet me here at the same time every night. Maybe I can even finish you some money if I look hard enough, Dad and Mom always give me some when I ask for it."

Harry was tearing up a little bit. His little cousin had always looked up to him and helped him whenever he was being punished. How was such a kind boy the spawn of two savages. It was a strange, strange world. "Thank you Duds. Don't tell Izzy where I am, alright? Try to get Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon to lie to her that I'm on a school trip or something, or staying over at a friend's house. Take care of her for me while I'm gone, please."

"That's what they always say, anyway. But I'll do my best, Harry! Izzy's my best friend, I'm sure I can cheer her up if she starts to miss you," Dudley gave him a big smile and the thumbs up.

Harry, got closer to Dudley and whispered tensely. "That's a good boy. Now, get back inside before they catch us. If they see you, you'll get in trouble as well."

"Alright, Harry. But where are you going to sleep?" Dudley asked, his forehead knitted with worried.

"I'll find some place. I always do." Harry replied, trying to keep up a brave face.

After another hug, Dudley snuck back inside and Harry began wandering down their street, watching his oblong shadow grow and shrink as he passed each street lamp, trying to figure out where was the best place to stay for tonight. He couldn't help but feel like he was being watched, but he told himself to be brave. Whenever he took more than a few steps, he'd stop to turn and check if anyone was behind me. The motion fanned the paranoia in his body and his heart had begun to thump violently while his breathing had compressed into half beats of inhales and exhales.

Every dog's bark was turned into a wolf's howl and every chirp of the songbirds sounded like a frightening raven's caw. A ten-year old's mind was a sensitive place, and Harry was starting to imagine the shadows contorting unnaturally, shooting off the ground and, like the tendrils of a monster, pursuing him through the streets. He looked up at the sky but the moon was no comfort as he quickened his step. The stars-too far away. Harry began to run until he reached a swing that he used to sit on alone. The street lamps with their powerful orange lights boarded up the square shaped playground, erecting a parapet of light around it. Inside, Harry felt safe and could finally regain his breath and maybe rest. Maybe he would sleep inside that playground.

He crawled into one of the play tunnels and put his backpack down, unzipped it, and looked through it. There was enough food for one or two meals. Little Dudley couldn't understand that turning the water sweet would not make his experience any better, but he appreciated the effort. He could always head to the public toilets at the corner store two miles away for some tap water. Harry's mind wandered as he thought about his parents and Sirius. Why did Sirius desert them? He dreamt of the night when their parents died.

* * *

 _Harry limped with his childish gait into the room holding a brown teddy bear with a ribbon gracefully tied around its neck to see his mom and dad on the floor, their clothes all wrong. They never slept on the floor like that, and they only ever slept in their_ pajamas _. Izzy was crying uncontrollably. Sirius was furious and shouting and wailing. All Harry could think to do was try and shake his mom awake._

 _"Mommy, wake up. Mommy?" Harry said as he shook her harder and harder. Her eyelids weren't shut. His mommy never slept like that without shutting her eyelids. She just laid on the floor limply._

 _He could see that the green of her eyes had withered and that there was nothing left. So, he started to shake her harder, her lifeless corpse flopping with his violent pushing and pulling._

 _"She's dead, Harry! She's dead! Stop touching her! They're all dead!" Sirius yelled, pulling Harry away before falling_ on to _his knees, tears streaming down his handsome face - his fingers pulling his hair desperately. "And it's all my fault. My fault. My Fault." He started to repeat in a hysteria, singing the words in the melody of a nursery rhyme._

 _Harry was crying. He knew their family was in a sort of danger, but he never imagined that his parents would leave. Were they never coming back? Sirius had brought him toy shopping that day to help choose Izzy a present for her first birthday. If he was here, maybe this wouldn't have happened. Why did he go? Why didn't he stay? If he stayed then he could have helped. But he didn't. But Izzy was still here. Harry pushed himself off the floor with his small hands and climbed up the wooden crib to take Izzy into his arms._

 _"Don't cry, Izzy. Don't cry. I'll always be here for you, okay?" He tried to whisper in a soothing voice, but tears and sniffles prevented his prosody from drifting into any kind of comforting lilt._

 _"Stay right here, and protect Izzy with your life. I'm going to go kill the one that is responsible." Sirius said with a crazed glint in his eyes, like a starved animal, as he ran out of the room and rushed down the stairs. Harry could hear the front door slam shut. The little teddy bear he brought for Izzy laid on its back beside the door, alone._

* * *

But Sirius never came back, and a tall old man took them the Dursleys and left them there. His relatives loved Izzy, because nothing strange ever happened around her, so in their eyes, it was always Harry who was the culprit. Even from such an early age, Harry knew that the key to the Dursley's chained hearts was the insistence of normality (just an appreciation and focus on it). They kept him in a cupboard and gave Izzy a room. But he knew what his life's purpose was. It was to protect her, and he did his task admirably as a child. He hugged her when she cried and threatened the kids that bullied her. He took the blame for any of the accidental magic she performed, even though his own powers had always been stable. And tonight was the same. Izzy was an emotional girl, which meant that she was incredibly hard to contain. She had levitated some flowers into the air out of sheer boredom, and, growing more and more excited as she saw what was happening, shattered an expensive porcelain vase, with its glass shards stabbing dangerously into the air. Straight away, Harry ran to his Uncle and claimed it was him. And now he was out here, and she was inside.

He breathed as slowly as he could to try to calm himself. He had powers, if anyone tried to hurt him he would hurt them back. The play tunnel had two exits, and he kept turning over to look at one side before the other, feeling unsafe and anxious.

Without any warning, a croaky voice sounded out from the distance, alongside a patter of footsteps that was crescendoing in noise, "Here, little Harry. Don't be scared."

Harry's heart was pounding out of control. His fears had been realised. Who the hell was that? How did he know his name? He wanted to run but his feet refused to move.

A wizened old man, who wore black robes, walked towards him holding out a wand. His hair was dark and speckled with grey, and he had a wild beard that looked like untamed patches of weeds. But his face looked weary, not lecherous, nor dangerous. "Don't try to run. Let me talk to you. I have good intentions I promise." He put his wand down in good faith.

Harry, with a weak voice, and a bit of a stutter responded, "What do you want! And how do you know my name!"

"I'm a wizard, Harry. A powerful one. And before you head off to Hogwarts next year. I'm going to take care of you and teach you everything I know."

Harry tried to evaluate his motives but his instincts convinced him that the man meant no malice. "Why me?" He asked, finally.

"Because you are gifted and strong, my child. Strong enough to one day be my redemption," He said, scratching his beard - his fingernails, with its haphazard shapes and bruised colors, crackled along his coarse hairs.

Taking his time to adjust himself as he looked at Harry up and down, he sat across from him, cross-legged. His dark blue eyes were the only parts of him that moved as he examined Harry, the rest of his body remained still and serene.

"Will you agree to let me take you as an apprentice?"

"Why me?"

Harry felt a sudden presence sway his mind and memories emerged one after the other, one on top of the other, forgotten stories, lost moments of bliss spent in the loving caress of his mother, his first time looking at Izzy; his dead mother; the trees darkling under the low grey clouds that nearly dusted the tops of the branches, and right in front of the trees, the old man again. Harry shook his head as the images vanished, there was a strange pain creeping up the nape of his neck, and he massaged it until it went away. When he looked up, the man began to smile at him.

"I've been watching you. You require the assistance, or the mentorship, of somebody who can teach you how to protect yourself and your sister." He spoke in a slow and punctuated way that made every pause feel like the tense calm before a droplet resumes its tumblings from a leaking pipe.

Harry shook his head, though he wished so dearly that he could explore his magic. "If you teach me, then who's going to take care of my sister."

"You won't have to live with me. I'll take you with me whenever you can spare the time." He said, laughing controllably.

The wizard flashed a crescent and yellow grin at him."You can do both, child, don't you see?"

"What if my uncle and aunt catch you?"

The man took out a wand and pointed it at himself. "They won't. See: I can turn myself invisible whenever I want to.?"

He vanished into thin air and then reappeared again, causing Harry's eyes to brighten up in wonder.

"Then you'll teach me how to control my powers and fight?" He asked excitedly.

The old man stared at his eyes without blinking for the longest time. Harry could feel an energy moving around his head, but it was gentle, more of a caress than the storm of images he was surrounded in just now.

"Well?"

"No. Your sister is the sword. You are the shield. If I teach you aggressive magic while you're still at such a tender age, it would be dangerous. You will only grow wild with power like I once did. Violence must be slowly introduced, for it can turn the most well-intentioned men into monsters." He replied.

Harry thought he saw regret in the old man's dull blue eyes.

"What do you mean? What use will you be to me if I can't help my sister to kill her enemies?" Harry asked, desperately, his anger rising from his chest.

"Your first reaction is to want to "kill" her enemies. Understand this, Harry. For I have gazed into your mind and understand your core. I see an angry, impulsive, ruthless soul with little patience and foresight. Someone who will abuse power as soon as he receives it. I see myself. You will not walk down the same road I have. And you will not learn how to attack until I make sure you can handle power."

"What did he mean by gazed into his head? Before Harry could retort, the man stretched out his hand. "Now come, child, I may not teach you how to harm others, but I will at least give you the fundamentals of magic that can serve you with other utility. We have much to do in the next four days."

Harry stood up with his backpack strapped around his shoulders and grabbed the man's hand, but stubbornly refused to move until the old man turned around.

"Wait, you know my name, can't you at least tell me yours as well?"

The old man laughed and nodded. "A fair trade. I am Gellert Grindelwald. But you can call me Gelly."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: The calm before the storm. Thanks for the reviews, everyone! Hope you enjoy this addition.**

Six years later…

The rattling skid of the train over the tracks that bridge his home to the world of magic was always a source of comfort for Harry. Out his window the pastoral fields of wheat swayed as he travelled. Rushing impressions of colors and scenes (snapshots of herding cows; purple sunsets; blonde children sat on the tops of fathers) seemed to blend together into a hypnagogic myth of the Muggle world. With each bump of the train he world seemed to be chuckling in delight or, with its sunset, as the train curved around a hill, looked to be gazing into him as though in beseechment for a moment of attentive silence. He was bound for Hogwarts, the familiar imagery told him as much. A few minutes ago he had tried to sit with Izzy but she said she was old enough to sit with her friends now, that Granger girl and one of the Weasley family.

"Harry, I know you love me - and I love you too, obviously. But I'm alright. I'm alright in this compartment here. If I need you, I'll shout."

"He's just trying to take care of you Izzy. You can sit with me if you like." Hermione chimed in before Izzy gave her a terrible look.

Fine, he supposed she was growing up. But, just last year he wasn't on guard and the Dementors almost gave her the kiss. And if he wasn't there this summer, she would have been in grave danger with the attack at the World Cup. Life around Isabella Potter was never easy. He sat scratching his chin while looking out the window.

"Hey there." Cedric Diggory said as he walked into his carriage.

"You're never early, are you?" Harry said.

"You're a big boy, you can handle ten more minutes of waiting." Cedric put his trunk under his seat and held his long arms out for a hug.

Harry stood up and embraced his friend tightly. There was a height difference between them so that Harry could never see the top of his head (it was always something that Harry felt he should be bothered by). Cedric was Harry's first wizard friend. Their friendship had grown very effortlessly despite their being in different houses. In their first year, the two had sat together in History of Magic by coincidence. They had a few strangely warm encounters in the library as well, as they sat together in quiet flipping through the pages of books. While the rest of the students, desperate to find kinship with their new schoolmates, were jumping around and clinging to whatever semblance of family they could find with their houses, both Cedric and Harry were comfortable with just their own worlds and that spawned a unconscious bond between the two of them. Both had grown up under difficult conditions and both knew that the gentle fireplace licking its way into the darkness was something to be found within, not given by the world around you. The two knew each other before they had met, and when the long awaited opportunity arrived (when a depressing classmate had tried to ask out a girl he was sitting next to in front of the whole class) a shared look of amusement and mirroring tightened lips, that dammed a burst of laughter, officially began a long friendship between the two.

They sat opposite each other and watched in silence as the hills and green blurred past them like a video on fast forward. "Any news from your father about the Death Eater attacks, then?"

"Nothing. The Ministry is really keeping this one under wraps." Cedric replied. "Have you thought at all about entering the tournament this year? Oh and keep it under wraps for now, no one is supposed to know about it."

Harry scratched his head. "Of course. Regarding the tournament...I'm still not entirely sure if I should. How's courting Cho going for you?"

"Don't change the subject, Harry. I really think you should enter. You'll definitely be selected as Hogwarts' champion. There's no better candidate." Cedric said, seriously.

"Let me think about it, alright? There are a lot of factors at play here." Harry said.

"It's not that complicated. I'll take care of Izzy while you train. I mean, she's thirteen, Harry. You've got to let her grow up, otherwise she'll never become an adult. You coddle her, you know that?" Cedric mused.

"I know, I know. It's just hard to let go. She's always in danger, I mean, she goes looking for it, know what I mean? Sirius, the Chamber of Secrets. It's like she's not content to live a boring life." Harry complained.

"You were involved in all those events as well. I could try talking to her, she'll definitely be more responsive to me, since I don't nag her every minute of every day." Cedric smiled, looking out the window thoughtfully, "Kids seem to listen to anyone besides the actual figures of authority."

"Did we ever listen to anyone?" Harry grinned. "What's the news with Cho?"

"Oh it's good. She likes me. I like her. What more can I ask for?" He smiled, handsomely (a look of such contentment that it was often mistook as arrogance).

"That's great news with Cho, at least. I'm happy for you. Keep it up, she's a keeper."

What was Cho? Harry could see the appeal. The luscious black hair and pretty eyes, but he could never see her as anything but Cedric's crush. Perhaps in another life.

"I'll do my utmost. Alright, I need to get to patrol, I'll be back after I do my shift and see Cho, alright?" Cedric said, adjusting his prefect badge.

"Go, go."

Harry was left alone again. The sun was still shining brightly so he drew the blinds and laid down on his seat, crossing his arms behind his head. He could hear the door to his compartment slide open. Harry opened one eye to see who was there. It was Draco Malfoy and his two friends, Slytherins from his sister's year. Obviously here to pick a fight.

"Whatever it was you were planning on doing, you've picked the wrong compartment for it. Get out." Harry warned.

Draco nodded fearfully and gestured to his two friends to leave and continue their bullying elsewhere. Harry contemplated rushing in to save his sister in case Malfoy was headed in her direction. But she could handle Malfoy, of that he was certain, the blonde had been in love with her since their first encounter in the Hogwarts train. He tried to return to his nap but, once again, there was a knock on his compartment door.

"Yes." He answered, beginning to get annoyed. A pair of red-haired twins walked in.

"Harry, our favorite Slytherin! How was the rest of your summer?" One of them asked.

"Was it splendid? Was it glorious? Did it ever get as exciting as when you single-handedly duelled that pesky Death Eaters and saved us all?" George added.

Harry chuckled. "That was for barely for a minute before the Aurors came."

It took a lot of courage for Harry to fight the Death Eaters off. A thinness stretched his lips apart as he mulled over the events. If only those Aurors hadn't shown up and the entire Weasley family didn't catch up afterwards. He could have tortured and interrogated them for information. Harry had all the chance in the world to kill him: that man with the twitch, but appearances have to be kept, as Gelly always said. Gelly also said that no one and nothing is more important than the greater good. But he had failed. He couldn't bring himself to kill a Death Eater. Where was his resolve?

"Oh, Harry remember that charm you showed us last semester?" Fred began.

"Yes, we've been meaning to ask you for permission because we've created a knock-off version of it."

"We're calling it. Fred and George's Patented Daydream Charms. " Fred said spreading his arms in the air like he was making a grand announcement.

"Why Fred and George? Why not George and Fred?" George asked.

"Because we chose this one alphabetically, remember?" Fred replied.

"Oh right, fair enough." George nodded, obviously not bothered.

"That's impressive, how did you pull that off? " Harry asked, sitting himself up with interest.

"We removed the precision of the vocabulary and standardised the fantasy so that it can apply to anyone." Fred said.

That was amazing, Harry never knew he was creating a future commodity when he was creating that charm.

"I'm guessing I know what your little brother's fantasy is." Harry blurted.

Fred and George gave each other sly looks and giggled. "He's still in love with little Izzy Potter, we think. Icky Ronnikins will never get over that cutie pie."

"I don't blame him, if she was a year or two older, I'd be in love with her too. Can you imagine. Izzy Weasley?" George said getting excited.

" Keep an eye out for your brother, I don't want him messing around with Izzy." Harry narrowed his eyes.

"Sorry, Mr. Potter. You can't stop love, On the bright side though, our little sister thinks you're the dreamiest boy in school." George laughed. .

"Ginny? Your twelve-year old sister thinks I'm dreamy? I don't know how to take that."

Fred thought about it for a second. "I think she said it's a tie between you and Mr. Diggory."

"Mom was very much in approval." George added.

Fred began imitating his mother's voice. "'Both very handsome and very clever boys, oh if only Harry was one of mine. I approve of both of them, Ginny'. She said, as she broke our hearts over dinner one night."

Harry shook his head but couldn't help but laugh. Cedric was the real heart-stopper. But he was flattered that he was in the running as well.

"What do you think our new Defense teacher will be like this semester?" Fred asked, Harry as the laughter died down.

"Hopefully not another Heir of Slytherin, eh Harry?" George said.

Harry begun to feel the pangs of guilt and was silent for a while. He was incredibly grateful that Cedric had reentered just in time.

"Definitely not another Heir. It's Mad-Eye Moody, isn't it? It'll be the opposite of some of the wrecks we've had over the years." Cedric said.

"Ah, Mr. Handsome. How are you, old boy." George said, shaking his hand in overt politeness.

Cedric took the handshake firmly. "No more Mr. Handsome. Mr. Diggory if you have to."

"Well, me and George better get going before we hear the accusations of fraternizing with the enemy houses. Good seeing you both, old chaps." Fred smiled as George and him left their carriage.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Cedric asked, seeing the familiar distant look in his eyes. He sat down beside Harry who was staring into the corner of the room. "Don't be like that. We've been over this. Lockhart deserved every bit of what came to him. He spent years erasing people's identities. At least you can give some of those people peace."

Harry growled. "But at what cost? I framed him. He's in Azkaban with the Dementors."

"So what? You still did people justice. You didn't have any control. The diary possessed you. Give yourself a break, alright?" Cedric said comfortingly, patting his shoulder. Cedric was wrong, there might be justification for the action in the grand scheme of the greater good but that didn't mean he didn't do it. He was responsible for the physical death of a person, and the death of another's soul.

"So-any news from Sirius?"

"Unfortunately, no matter what he tries, I'm still hesitant to forgive him. I don't really have the strength to at the moment." Harry sighed, glad that Cedric had changed the topic but not particularly happy at his choice.

"Take your time, Harry. Do whatever it is you need to to heal before you make any decisions. For now, just focus on the Triwizard Tournament. Glory, fame, a girlfriend for you, finally. I overheard some girls talking about you just now. They were too scared to come inside and talk to you. Apparently, the difficulty of approaching you is 'part of your charm'." Cedric said, drawing air quotes with his fingers.

"You spend a lot of time rationalising my actions, don't you?" Harry accused.

"That's why I'm your best friend, you twat." Cedric winked. "I wonder what that Gryffindor is like in bed?"

"Wait. Shh. Someone's coming in." Harry put up his arm.

A group of Gryffindors girls entered their carriage and their perfume combined into a miasma of thick musk. Harry flinched from the unctuousness. Cedric would shoo them away, Harry mistakenly assumed.

"Hey, Harry. Oh...hi Cedric. Sorry, are we interrupting anything?" The leader of a pack of girls said.

"Nope, I've got an urgent matter at hand actually, I need to go talk to Cho, excuse me." Cedric said as he quickly rushed past them. Harry opened his eyes and looked at him in utter fear.

Before he left, Cedric added salt to the wound. "Harry would be very happy and grateful for your company while I go see my girlfriend. He's single, so he doesn't have a girl, you see. Oh. Harry! Harry!" Cedric yelled at him. "Isn't this the Angelina Johnson that you told me about?" He shook her hand.

"Hi, I'm Cedric Diggory."

"Nice to meet you, Cedric. But I'm not Angelina Johnson..."

"Oh, sorry. I get names confused, but now that I see your face, I must admit you're definitely the girl that Harry was talking about."

She blushed in response, a smile on her face.

And just like that Cedric made it impossible for Harry to escape as he was circled by the girls.

"Wait, Cedric. Wait!"

The events that transcribed were too horrible to speak of.

"Send me an owl if you want a date, alright? And that's from all of us." A girl smiled rosily at him.

He tried to force a smile but all that came out of him was a grimace.

"They did just kind of molest me?" Harry asked himself. Horrible. He needed some comfort. Harry left his carriage and went over to Izzy's compartment.

"Harry! What happened to you?" Izzy asked, standing up and examining Harry's body and the ten or twelve war-hickeys on his neck and chest. Her scar was nothing compared to this.

"It was those Gryffindor girls from his year. I heard they've been trying to get him alone all this time. I'm sorry for what happened." Hermione said, blushing .

"Hello, Mr, Weasley, and Ms. Granger." Harry said, as Izzy tried to cover up the hickeys by changing him into his robes.

He whispered. "Thank you. I don't really know how to handle things like this."

Izzy beckoned for Hermione to join them, looking very mischievous and cunning. "Harry wants to know what to do the next time a bunch of girls jump him."

"Oh Harry, next time this happens, just tell them you're not interested and that you never will be. Or say: that there's already someone in your heart that you love. Someone who's been beside you all this time, but you've never really noticed her, because you only know her through your sister and you think you might be too old for her. I'm sure she doesn't think so. That you're too old. I mean the hypothetical her." Hermione awkwardly tried to force a laugh, but failed miserably and just sat back down.

"Izzy, that was mean." Harry whispered sternly into her ear, smiling forcefully at Hermione to try and assay her embarrassment.

"Well, you already know. You have to admit it was a bit funny wasn't it?" Izzy smiled, her eyes twinkling like emeralds under lights.

"The Girl Who Lived," Harry said, crossing his arms, "making light of someone's emotions is not good form. You'll need your friends one day and if you don't treat them right, they'll turn on you. Understood?"

Izzy grumbled but nodded.

"Mr. Weasley, how was your summer?" Harry asked taking a seat beside him and giving him an uneasing stare that dug straight into his soul.

"It was alright. It was alright, sir!" Ron, after being flustered, somehow managed to reply.

"And your parents are doing well?"

"Very well, my lord, I mean Harry. Or Mr. Potter."

"Izzy, dear, how was your day so far?." He asked, petting her head fondly as she sat down next to him.

"Harry! Stop petting me, you're embarrassing me in front of my friends! And why do you have to call them by their last names. You've known Hermione and Ron for years now." Izzy said as her tanned cheeks became lightly sprinkled with pink-red.

Harry smiled uneasily and moved his hand away.

"All those people passing our carriage are whispering about me! Everyone's looking and judging me for talking to a Slytherin." She complained.

Harry remembered a time when Izzy was proud to be seen with him. Long, long ago.

"But they know I'm your brother."

"You think that matters to them?"

Ron coughed and spoke up. "I think they won't really care, since the two of you are related."

Ron looked to Harry for approval. Harry knew he was full of it. This was the same boy that once told his little sister that she would be disowned if she wasn't in Gryffindor.

He sighed as the silence in the carriage got more and more uncomfortable, waved goodbye to the trio, and left to join Cedric.

"Saved you a seat, mate." Cedric said, moving his bag off the chair.

"There are only two of you here…" Harry muttered. "Also I can't believe you left me with all those girls."

Cedric laughed in response. "Did you like them? I told them that you're trying to get a girlfriend before the end of October."

"Hey, Harry." A pretty girl said brightly: Cedric's girlfriend, Cho Chang.

"Hello, Cho," he waved, "Izzy just shooed me away. It was very upsetting. Cedric, do you think I'm embarrassing? I thought I had cultivated a tough but cool persona. But she seems to be embarrassed by me." He confessed, tugging on his hair in confusion.

Cedric scratched his chin. "I've never thought you were embarrassing. As far as I know you're quite popular. Strange…"

"Gosh, the two of you don't understand teenage girls at all. I thought you were supposed to be smart, Potter."

"Cedric, she called me smart." Harry smiled goofily.

"Sod off, you twat. She think-"

Cho covered Cedric's mouth with her pale hand. "Can I continue? Thank you. She's embarrassed because you treat her like the way an older brother treats his baby sister, Harry. The character she plays when she talks to you is incompatible with the one she plays when she's with her friends." Cho explained.

"What are you on about? What characters? She is my little sister. Why can't I treat her like normal? Besides, she's the Girl-Who-Lived, that's the peak of popularity, nothing can really damage her reputation."

"Let me put this simply: she's still a little girl, no matter how famous she is. So you need to adjust your behaviour so that you don't make her look less cool."

"So maybe I should treat her like she's older." Harry thought out loud.

"Yeah, mate. Maybe try imagining her to be older, like pretend she's twenty, that might help." Cedric offered.

"Hmm. Perhaps. I'll try, at least." Cedric was an expert on relationships, and always gave good advice to him. Maybe he should try imagining Izzy as an older sister. Nope, he couldn't do it. Maybe a twin?

"You two are hopeless. That is not what I meant, at all." Cho said, defeated by their idiocy, "Hogwarts is coming up soon. Should we get changed? Oh Harry, would you like a bite of this? It's some sushi I made for Cedric. He thinks it's awful."

"It's raw fish, Cho, how could you enjoy raw fish?"

"It's a Japanese delicacy!"

As the couple argued, Harry wondered what his year would be like. Ever since Izzy had joined Hogwarts he had never had a year of quiet. This was his last year now. He wondered what would change.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN Sorry for not posting for so long. Was diagnosed with bipolar and life got in the way. Will post more now that its the summer holidays.**

After they scurried the train, Harry separated from the crowd and snuck to his room for some peace and quiet. His room was a small one near the entrance of the Slytherin common room in the dungeons. It was reached by climbing up two sets of staircases. He had chosen it for its privacy: sixth years had choice in the matter of housing. The familiar double bed had white linen sheets and his pillows seemed clean. To make sure, Harry cast a Dust-Away Charm to clean his room. His wall had pages and pages of parchment magically pinned on it, his research on enchantments and work for a research firm in Diagon Alley that specialized in spell creation. His looks were the results of endless experimentation with enchantment, including those that focused on blood magic. The elegant but also brimming quality of his power was a result of his tireless work to enchant and train himself under the tutelage of Grindelwald.

The ground was up to the brim with piles of books, and notes cluttered all over the wooden floor. It smelled of pine, an enchantment he cast last year when he got the room. There was a window that opened to a view of the lake with auroras from the moonlight shining onto the mist and whispering through. Harry sat on his bed, and pondered his decision.

Izzy was safe in these halls, while Dumbledore was there. He just prayed to the magical gods that Izzy would not try to find some way to enter the tournament.

Should he or shouldn't he enter the Tournament himself? He didn't know. It would be a chance for him to demonstrate his abilities and send fear into the hearts of Izzy's enemies. They would become more wary of him and hopefully divert their attention towards him. At the same time, he couldn't help but feel like he just wanted the attention. Maybe he wanted to be something more than just the brother of the Boy Who Lived. He didn't know.

While the students were still at the opening feast, he started to read through some of the books that Gelly gave him to study this semester. Since he began school at Hogwarts he had always been doing two curriculums. The school's one, and grandpapa's one. Always in secret, however, because though grandpapa was a changed man, people would definitely not believe him.

But Harry would try whatever he could to redeem him, after all, this was the man who took care of both Harry and Izzy and taught him all the magic he knew. His dream was to one day help Izzy defeat the Dark Lord and yell out Grindelwald's name to the world, and tell them that Harry Potter was his redemption. He looked through the books, more true names and vocabularies - so many spellbooks, dear goodness - more magic theory - this might be interesting, he could work on his understanding of the primal elements of magic - and, wait, what was this? A book on aggressive, dark magic. Harry pumped his fist in the air. This meant that he made it. He had become a person who could control power. There was a note attached on it.

" _Fire is the only source of heat, and thus the only source of light. Darkness is only a passing state, the greater good is what's most important. Use this power wisely, Harry. And never resort to it unless the circumstances are dire._

Students began to fill the hall with whispers of who would enter the Tournament. He could hear Malfoy's voice from all the way down in the common room, it irked him beyond measure.

"We all know Potter's going to be chosen for this one."

"So what, Bulstrode? He is a champion of Hogwarts."

"This is the man who framed an innocent teacher and sent him to Azkaban. He is no champion."

"That's a lie," Malfoy said, "And you know it and everyone knows it. Stop trying to spread that rumor. He's a Slytherin like us, and a great person."

"You're just saying that because you like his sister."

Well at least someone was defending him. Harry reached for his wand under his pillow and with a casual wave of his hand , soundproofed his door. Bulstrode was right, of course, he was no champion. He definitely never felt like one. But this tournament was the chance for him to validate or, at worst, simply confirm, those thoughts looming in his mind. He decided. He would enter.

Harry found sleep that night, and woke up as he always did, dazed and confused. The dawn had just ended its grey sojourn before the sun was arrested in early noon. Potions was the first class of the day. He pulled on his robes and brushed his teeth, leaving his room to the nearby Potions classroom. It was his habit to arrive early in classes, perhaps because he never felt the urge to prolong his unconsciousness; as a victim of insomnia he hadn't ever developed a healthy relationship to sleep.

In his head, he made a list of the tasks he had to accomplish today. Harry thought of life in blocs and never allowed himself the pleasure of living life in the moment. At that moment, he had a number of goals: learn how to translate his considerable talent into fighting; maintain the important relationships in his life - thirty minute sessions for each of his friends; study his texts hard. As his year entered the classroom (a collection of Slytherin and Hufflepuff students that Snape had considered sufficiently worthy to be a part of his little kingdom) Cedric found Harry sitting near the front and came to sit next to him. His friend was always refreshed in the mornings, in contrast to Harry who needed the evening to be at his best.

"Missed breakfast again? It's delicious, you know? Most important meal of the day." Cedric said, taking out his potions textbook.

"Breakfast slows me down, I'm already drowsy enough in the mornings." Harry replied, as he prepared his cauldron.

Snape swept into the room dramatically, as always, and scanned his cruel eyes at the class. "I hope your holidays were restful. Because this class will be taxing for even the best of you. I shall be working you to the edge of your abilities, and push you further than you've ever been pushed before. There will be no instructions on the board. Now, turn your textbooks to the Polyjuice Potion. This will be our project for the rest of the month. Partner up."

The class went by uneventfully with Snape patrolling the tables to reluctantly approve or happily snicker at those who were struggling with the complex potion. The Polyjuice potion was a complex one, but Harry's reading under Grindelwald studied the essence of potions. Even when he was diverging from the book, Snape would merely give him a nod of approval. Though he could not match the Half-blood Prince, whose textbook was filled with amazing insight and observation, Harry was convinced he could give that brilliant man a run for his money if caught off guard. He suspected the prince to be Snape.

"Cedric, I'll catch up with you later, I need to have a word with the Professor." Harry said.

Cedric nodded. "I'll see you at lunch. We're sitting at the Hufflepuff table today."

Despite his irrational hatred of Izzy, Snape treated Harry with a firm but respectful grip. Often staring into his eyes and nodding. Sometimes, Harry would even imagine he saw a sad smile flickering behind his cold glare. Their relationship especially improved when Harry took Snape's side during their discussion with Dumbledore after last year's Sirius Black fiasco. Harry claimed that Snape was essential in apprehending Wormtail and that Sirius was acting violently towards the Professor, which gained a lot Snape's favor. According to Sirius and Lupin, Snape had been bullied by his father during their time together at Hogwarts.

Perhaps he took a sick delight at how his old nemesis' son treated him with more respect than he did to his bully's best friend. Of course, Harry knew all of this, but never felt particularly dishonest or like a traitor, after all, there was still a strong amount of residual anger that he felt towards Sirius after his godfather had left him alone to raise Izzy.

Harry packed his book away and approached Snape's desk. "Professor? May I have a moment of your time?" He asked.

"You may." Snape replied coolly, glancing up from the papers that were neatly arranged on his desk.

"I wanted to ask your opinion on the goals of dueling during a situation where one is defending their life against an enemy."

Snape betrayed a small frown, unsure exactly of Harry's motives behind asking him this question. "Is this concerning your battle against the alleged Death Eater during the World Cup?"

Harry nodded in response. "I've never studied anything but defensive magic and had no experience with duelling." The student looked at his supinated palms in frustration. "I was over matched by a common criminal. I need to understand what a fight is if I want to protect my little sister."

"Make no mistake, Mr. Potter. A Death Eater, which this man certainly was, is no common criminal. The agents left from the Dark Lord's reign are only the most devious and powerful. Do not pathetically lament your lack of power. Seek to improve it instead. I would expect nothing less from the pride of the Slytherin house." Snape grudgingly lectured, as if he couldn't believe he was comforting a student.

As Gelly taught him, the way to the proud person's heart is flattery: in this scenario, an appeal to superior expertise. "You're the only adult that can help me do that, Professor Snape. The other teachers do not believe that there is any point to learning to defend yourself and would rather keep me in the dark than recognise that danger in the world is real. My mother died defending my sister, and I couldn't do anything about it. I have the feeling you understand what I'm talking about." Harry said wistfully, acting reluctant and vulnerable with his words, shifting his weight from his left to his right repeatedly to conjure an impression of discomfort.

"I do." He said, Snape's eyes regressing into a childhood vulnerability. Harry saw pain and darkness there, and Snape seemed have lost himself in memory for a moment before shaking himself back into their conversation.

"Mr. Potter, you will return to my office this Friday at nine, and I will share with you what I know. To answer your question, one does not duel to disarm or defend. Strike away any of those idealistic and naive notions that our side is so fond of. A fight is a battle of wills. A roll of the dice where lives and destiny are the stakes. You will win if your will to survive is powerful enough. But a duel is intricate and infinitely more complex than simple ideologies of pacifism. I will show you." Snape said with finality. "Now, leave me, I have work to do."

"Thank you Professor. I'm...I'm glad the Sorting Hat put me in Slytherin," Harry said as he turned around and walked out of the classroom with a victorious smirk. He wondered if that was too much. Snape was a dramatic man though, perhaps that would have been too much if he was trying to gain the headmaster's affection, but not for a man like Snape. Harry saw the way he could move during his fight against Lupin and Sirius, this was the man who could teach him how to be strong.

The next stop was lunch: maintaining strong relationships with his friends. He walked into the Great Hall and stopped by the Gryffindor table. As usual, his complete and utter lack of respect for social taboos garnered the attentions of many heads that turned in exaggerated shock to see a Slytherin confer with a Gryffindor

."Izzy, dear, how was your day so far? I'm sorry I didn't make it to dinner last night." He asked, petting her head fondly.

"Harry! Stop petting me, you're embarrassing me in front of my friends!" Izzy said as her tanned cheeks became lightly sprinkled with pink-red. The Gryffindor boys around her all looked at him in fear.

'Good. If they messed with his little sister, they'll know who they have to deal with.' Harry thought. What was he doing? Was this intimidation?

Harry smiled and moved his hand away. He felt like such an old man sometimes. "Will you be flying later on?"

"Mhm, after my lessons are over."

"Would you mind if I joined you?" He asked.

"Of course not, just go away for now. Everyone's looking and judging me for talking to a Slytherin." She said.

Harry knew he lacked social graces sometimes and acquiesced. He remembered a time when Izzy was proud to be seen with him. Long, long ago. He sighed and waved goodbye to her and left to join Cedric.

"Saved you a seat, mate." Cedric said, moving his bag off the chair.

"Hey, Harry." A pretty girl said brightly: Cedric's girlfriend, Cho Chang.

"Hello, Cho," he waved, "Izzy just shooed me away. It was very upsetting. Cedric, do you think I'm embarrassing? I thought I had cultivated a tough but approachable persona. But she seems to be embarrassed by me." He confessed, tugging on his hair in confusion.

Cedric scratched his chin. "I've never thought you were embarrassing. As far as I know you're quite popular. Strange…"

"Gosh, the two of you don't understand teenage girls at all. I thought you were supposed to be smart, Potter."

"Cedric, she called me smart." Harry smiled goofily.

"Sod off, you twat. She think-"

Cho covered Cedric's mouth with her pale hand. "Can I continue? Thank you, you terrible boyfriend. She's embarrassed because you treat her like the way an older brother treats his baby sister, Harry. The character she plays when she talks to you is incompatible with the one she plays when she's with her friends." Cho explained.

"But she is my little sister. Why can't I treat her like normal? Besides, she's the Girl-Who-Lived, that's the peak of popularity, nothing can really damage her reputation."

"She's still a little girl, no matter how famous she is. So you need to adjust your behaviour so that you don't make her look less cool"

"So maybe I should treat her like she's older." Harry thought out loud as he began cutting up his chicken and biting up large pieces, looking over at Izzy as she talked excitedly with her friends, her loud gesticulations all over the places.

"Yeah, mate. Maybe try imagining her to be older, like pretend she's twenty, that might help." Cedric offered, his mouth full of food

"Hmm. Perhaps. I'll try, at least." Cedric was an expert on relationships, and always gave good advice to him. Maybe he should try imagining Izzy as an older sister. Nope, he couldn't do it. Maybe a twin?

"You two are hopeless."

 **AN Since Grindelwald cannot appear in Hogwarts, Harry needs a temporary teacher. Snape seems to be a good option or at least my version of him does :)**


	4. Chapter 4

He dropped by the Owlery after Transfiguration, where he had earned his house twenty points for successfully casting the Bird-Conjuring charm on his second try - they had planned to spend two weeks of classes on it, so he had much more free time now; McGonagall would probably allow him to spend his time reading other material.

One of the cons of not going to breakfast was that Hedwig had acclimated to his routine and never delivered him mail anymore, he had to go all the way to the Owlery to receive his mail and packages.

He walked into the tower and Hedwig gave him a beady look, canting his head over to the side where two letters awaited him in his cubby hole. Two letters, one from his godfather and one from Gelly. He pocketed the letters and went over to feed Hedwig some treats and stroke her head. She was such a gorgeous creature. Snowy owls could be very aggressive from what Harry had read in muggle books, especially if they had just been woken up. Harry supposed that the magic turned Hedwig somewhat sentient, which was why she never complained even when he woke her up from a deep sleep.

Now that his day was complete, Harry went over to the Quidditch Pitch to meet Izzy, who had just completed her daily drills and flew down on her Firebolt to greet him. He was glad she had at least one passion in her life, Izzy was awfully lazy in everything else.

"Hey Harry!" She said as she landed her broom and walked towards him, sweat dripping from her forehead.

"How were the drills?" He asked.

"Tough, same as always. They'll pay off when Quidditch seasons starts." She smiled, looking at what he was holding. "Are those letters for us?" She asked curiously, running over to take them from him.

"Hey! Don't snatch, Izzy. And yes, they are for us. One's from grandpapa and the other's from godfather, and this one," he said, holding out the one letter Izzy hadn't rudely snatched from him, "is from our dear cousin, Dudley."

"Oh, how lovely!" She smiled. "Shall we read it together?"

"Sure. Let's sit down." He replied.

Izzy gave Harry a strange look after they sat down, as though she were trying to figure him out.

"What are you looking at, little sister." He asked, raising his eyebrow.

"Is Hermione being paranoid or is it true that you've agreed to go on a date with Sandra Dee from Ravenclaw?" She asked, nosy as usual.

He shook his head violently and then sighed for a protracted period of time. "I didn't know how to respond."

"My older brother on a date? That's a joke." Izzy laughed, rambunctiously.

Harry looked hurt.

"I'm joking. She's very pretty. Go for it!" She said, apologetically.

"She just asked me to tutor her, that doesn't count as a date. I mean, not really, right?" Harry pleaded.

"In girl's world that's about as forward as you can get." Izzy said, seriously. "Just let her down gently if you let your studies take priority over your happiness again, alright? She's a really nice girl."

"Okay, okay. Why is it everyone keeps lecturing me the last few days? I'm happy the way I am. Let's just read these letters and relax." He complained.

The sun was falling and a brilliant orange was brightly painted on top of the navy evening that was settling in. A breeze swept through the few leaves on the ground from the still-dying of the summer. It wasn't quite autumn yet, but the red and gold was undeniably there. Harry and Izzy faced opposite Hogwarts and towards the Forbidden Forest. The smell of pine nuts teased his nose. Harry wondered where that smell was coming from (was he imagining it) while waiting for Izzy to open the letters in her crude manner, ripping apart the envelope. He stretched out his hand for Izzy to hand him the letters. It would be safer to burn it. Many people would kill to know where Sirius was at the moment, and Gelly was a secret only for the two of them. The letter from Dudley was fine. He kept an envelope for that. Harry casted an Incendio charm at the envelopes before stomping the fire out methodically.

"I hate the smell of burning." Izzy said, as she watched the embers die under his boots.

"Deal with it. Let's read the letters."

* * *

Dear my fine and spoilt grandchildren,

I see the Triwizard tournament has been restored. Always a great opportunity to prove yourselves. Harry, be sure to join, it'll be useful to understand how you rank amongst the competition. Izzy, consider it, but make sure you prepare tremendously in advance (you've always been the lazy one).

Izzy scowled.

"He's right, though, isn't he?" Harry grinned.

The autumn chill is setting in my bones and I miss your company. It is lonely and my head, filled with its past mistakes, spends its days in deep regret about the decisions I made as a younger man. I long for your laughter and tenderness, Izzy, and your pragmatism, Harry.

"He makes me sound like I'm a bore." Harry said.

"You are a bore."

In response to your request, Harry, I've sent over a collection of more aggressive magic for you to study. Do keep in mind the first words I've ever told you. By nature, my dear grandson, you have a strong desire for control, which flirts dangerously with hubris and obsession with power. I understand you better than you understand yourself. Believe me when I tell you to take heed of these aspects of yourself.

And in response to you, Izzy. As I have repeated to you before, again and again, my knowledge of Quidditch is rather pathetic, but I hope the book I sent you will be helpful. According to booklists it's a good read for understanding strategy and tactics, along with the mental aspect of concentration in the sport - this will further improve the natural reflexes and focus you have for physical performance, and as I've said, if you ever want to, Harry could always sing a transformation for you.

"I told, Gelly, I don't want to change my face! It's the only reminder I have of mom and dad." Izzy said, petulantly.

Harry supposed he didn't have that anymore. It was upsetting.

"You can always look at my face, Harry." Izzy realising what she said as she smiled, lovingly. She understood him well.

I look forward to receiving your next letter. Both of you, write to me about everything that has been going on. Update me on all aspects of your life.

Love,

Gelly.

"I love Gelly's letters. He's so good at capturing what he's like in real-life, isn't he Harry?" Izzy said, breathing happily.

"Indeed. I just hope I can one day redeem his name. If anyone knew he'd adopted us, all three of us would be in so much trouble."

"Alright, here's the next letter, Dudley Vernon!"

Dear Harry and Izzy,

School is getting harder everyday. Mom and Dad are still mad at Izzy for going to Hogwarts, even though it's been years. And they blame it on you, Harry. They were hoping the two of you would spend more time at home, so they could change Izzy back. But they think you dragged them away. This part is for Harry:

There's a girl in school I like called Brooke. I don't know what to do. It is like she doesn't even know I exist. Please send me some advice, as soon as you can.

"You read it didn't you?" Harry said, expectantly.

"Of course. Besides, you don't know the first thing about girls. I'll write your reply for you and you can copy it down in your handwriting." Izzy replied, nonchalantly.

I miss the two of you and the times we used to have together. Please spend more time at home during the summer.

Dudley

* * *

"I miss him. He was the only good thing that ever came out of that house." Harry began, folding the letters and placing it back in the envelope. The sun was almost done setting at this point.

"Nonsense, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon are just having difficulty adjusting to us being at Hogwarts. They'll come around soon, I'm telling you." Izzy said.

She was in denial, obviously. Since Harry had spared her from most of the suffering inflicted by the Dursleys, she didn't know what she was talking about. But there was no point in ruining her illusion, at least her perception of the world wasn't quite as dark as Harry's yet. She was his little ball of light.

"And finally, the family you hate the most, the godfather." Izzy announced.

* * *

Dear Harry and Izzy,

I'm still waiting to be called for trial. The Ministry is reluctant to just let me go like that. I guess wrongfully imprisoning a man in Azkaban for all these years is not something they want as public knowledge. Izzy, I do have a lot of stories and some photos of your parents from their school days, I will send you copies of the photos in my next post. The stories: I will think over and record them but tell you in person, they're better that way, I think. Please convince your brother to forgive me, Izzy, even though I know he refuses to tell you why he is mad at me.

"Will you tell me now?" She asked, opening her eyes hugely like a puppy.

"No. Keep reading."

I will be sending you a series of five gifts each throughout the year. They'll be entirely random and varied, so keep an eye out! I heard about the Triwizard Tournament, how exciting. Be careful though, the Durmstrang headmaster was a Death Eater during Voldemort's reign.

Goddamnit, Sirius, he was trying to protect Izzy from information like this.

Enter if you must, Harry, but Izzy, I recommend you stay out of it. Lupin has been by often to chat with me. My mood is still in a frenzy pretty much everyday from my time in Azkaban, but there are some moments of clarity, here and there. Having Moony's company is nice. Miss you both, a lot.

Love,

Padfoot

For the strangest reason, that struck a chord with Harry. He's known all along, but he forgot, often times, that Sirius was only human. Perhaps that was because he was part of Harry's life before the death of his parents, when his life was filled with lofty expectations and high ideals. Darn it. He had to forgive him. Sirius was trying his best. Five presents? He was giving it his all. Besides, Sirius could probably help in the female department. Suddenly, Harry's eyes brightened at a thought.

"What is it? You have your idea face." Izzy said.

"If I'm selected as a champion, I could announce it to the Prophet during the Triwizard Tournament, and perhaps we could push Sirius trial to the high priority list." Harry said, excitedly.

"I thought you were still mad at him." Izzy scrunched up her beautiful face.

"Family is family." Harry smiled, resigned to the power of family.

"Yay! That's great to hear." Izzy beamed.

It finally clicked for Harry. He looked forward to seeing Sirius to see if he could give him forgiveness. Sirius lost the most to Voldemort, since Izzy didn't even know their parents, and Harry was only four when it happened. He needed him right now.

"Alright the sun's setting. We need to get to dinner, and I need a hot shower. See you later, Harry?"

"Okay. But, give me a hug first." Harry said, reaching out with his arms.

"I'm all sweaty and stinky." Izzy rolled her eyes and complained.

"No choice, little sister." Harry said, embracing her tightly. His little ball of light. He looked down at her beautiful, large green eyes and full lips. He knew that she would blossom into an adult soon, but right now, in the interstice between childhood and adulthood, he was going to treat her like his little baby as he always did. Izzy never complained, until recently, about how he treated her, even though he was only, technically, two and a half years older than she was. His little sister knew he was always watching out for her. Gelly always said that was his purpose. The shield to Dumbledore's sword. But he loved his role because he loved his sister, his closest person in the world.

She was such a handsome girl, the best parts of her mother and father combined. She had dad's jaw, mom's chin, dad's eyebrows, mom's eyes, mom's nose, and lovely tanned skin. He was so proud of her, even though she could be so reckless, and lazy, and stupid about being a heroine and courageous. He petted her head.

"Ok, ok that's enough." She said shrugging Harry off of her, and started jogging back to her dormitory. "See you later, Harry!"

It was a good day. The sun was gone. Time for another night of intensive study.


	5. Chapter 5

"Potter! Speed is useless when you telegraph where you're dodging every time I cast a spell. Again!"

Snape was training Harry hard. He would be loathe to admit it, but Harry was learning at an astounding pace. His natural reflexes coupled with his lithe body had made him a gifted duelist before he had even begun to train. Now that he was being taught, Harry had begun constructing a system of dueling, with ripostes, dodges, shields and was becoming accomplished. He was particularly adept at protection, but Snape, who was an incredible duelist, expected more from him. A focus on defense neglected any offensive spells, and Harry would shield instead of attack. The whole point of duelling was to defeat your foe, not simply to run away from him.

Harry was panting, his hands on his knees and his breath jagged from the training. He hadn't been hit by any curses but Snape was in full control of the tempo and had not moved from the spot he had begun the training at.

"You haven't seen to have inherited your godfather's natural gift for attacking, and yet that will also be his doom, since he has never paid attention to protecting himself. Potential wise you exceed both him and your pig father."

Harry returned the insult with a few curses that Snape easily deflected.

"Telegraphing again, Potter," he barked, "Limit your wand movements or your enemy will see every one of your moves coming."

Harry was growing increasingly frustrated and so took a few deep breaths, shutting his eyes, before quickly opening them and flicking his wand with blinding quickness at Snape from an unorthodox angle.

"Argh!" Snape groaned.

Snape recovered quickly from the stinging hex. "What unnatural agility," he mumbled.

"Congratulations, Potter, you've made the most minute amount of progress. Our lesson ends here today. When we next see each other you will have memorised those spells I've written down on that parchment there, the wand movements are right next to each other."

Harry bid Snape goodbye and went back to his room for a shower. It was already October and time had flown by. He had just completed adding variables to his system of duelling in his room on a piece of parchment and memorising the new spells from Grindelwald and Snape, when he noticed that the clock had struck seven. His dueling arsenal was growing at a rapid pace. He had already finished the curriculum for all his classes including Arithmancy and Ancient Runes of which he was more than adequate at. But his power still felt insufficient to him, he had decided, soon he would go through a blood enchantment to empower his magical core once again, though this time he would need to sacrifice a finger, which wasn't something he particularly looked forward to.

The visitors from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang were due for arrival that night, and should have just been eating dinner. Harry thought it might be wise for him to check out the competition, so he decided he would go to the Great Hall when he had finished sending a letter off to Sirius. Since his change of heart over Sirius, he had made it a habit to write to his godfather. But it was still a chore more than anything else. It would take time and effort for him to change the way he felt about his godfather, which was a brick wall of feeling that was cemented and solidified during the past ten years when Sirius was in Azkaban.

After a journey to the Owlery, Harry went back downstairs to the Great Hall. Despite the distance he had traversed, the wizard showed no signs of tiredness (an effect of the rituals that he had performed with Gelly). His hair was too long and messy as usual, and there was a sharpness to his face that one could spot at every turn: a strong jawline, protruding cheek bones that sliced across in diagonals; an overhanging brow that cast a shadow over his eyes whenever he was thoughtful. Harry looked like someone had sketched him, which is why he hated looking in the mirror. His face was unnatural, like someone had learnt the rules of composition and put him in perfect symmetry, but without understanding that beauty came from the small imperfections and blemishes that detailed the skin, and the little suggestions of too much or too little which throws the scale off balance and creates personality. He looked archetypical, but not interesting, there were no scars or wrinkles to be found. His body was very much the same way, lithe, tall, but equally dull. Perhaps that was why, Harry thought, that he liked to keep his hair untrimmed and never combed, otherwise there would be nothing human left about him. The feelings he had about his face transcended the physical and into his notion about his identity as well. Because he was so obsessed with controlling his world and who he was - and thus how he was perceived, Harry rarely took risks or let himself experience anything that he hadn't perfectly understood. The manner in which his brain functioned naturally made it easy for him to spot patterns and create systems, but that also meant that things grew tiresome very quickly, since, for him, repetition came almost immediately after novelty. It took him just twice to become tired of a new food he liked; so that his personality evolved to become robotic and affected at many points, which was quite possibly why people found him difficult to talk to and relate to. Because of his understanding of the world, empathy wasn't out of reach, but a tool for him.

He could hear the clamour of the Great Hall, unusually loud tonight, and a litany of clinking cutlery scratching porcelain before he was even close to the doors. Harry pushed opened the door lazily and entered the room. The night sky was as enticing as always, silvery blue and hazy, and the candles had doubled from their usual number do the cascading flames dripped and erupted out and in of sight at a tremendous pace creating an overexposure around the hall. During most dinners, it was not difficult for Harry to sneak onto his seat without too many stares, but tonight a rare fervor and chattiness was alight around the room, and he could glimpse round fingers pointed in his direction, giggles and whispers and turning heads. Many unfamiliar costumes were littered around the room-long tables. He didn't particularly care, though. The attention was unwarranted in his opinion and never got to his head (since instead of feeling flattered he felt contemptuous). And he always understood that Izzy had it much worse. Harry wasn't going to stop breaking the rules; he liked to do what he wanted to do and, besides Gelly and Izzy, few people ever came close to changing his mind about anything - the teachers understood this early and because he was a model student were lenient in their treatment of him; waving his antics off as eccentricity as opposed to attention seeking or trouble-making. His eyes scanned the room and their shadowy ways glared back at the people gawking at his arrival (most of them looked away as his gaze met theirs).

Finally, he found Cedric, who was taking a page out of Harry's book, and sitting at the Ravenclaw table beside his girlfriend. Cho probably wanted to scare off the other girls and establish her dominance on the first day so that she wouldn't have to deal with relationship troubles and jealously. Izzy was busy whispering to her friends. The professors at the high table nodded at him, Snape in a bare smirk at his impudence and lateness; McGonagall looking very disappointed and embarrassed. Dumbledore and a tall, imposing lady were chatting, with the woman giving him calculating looks every few moments. Were they talking about him? He better move. Harry held his head as high as he always did and walked to the Ravenclaw table to sit beside Cedric. The Beauxbatons students were on that table as well, and they looked at him in astonishment as he sat down, still in shock (it seemed) over his absolute disregard over the taboos and rituals behind hosting guests. A few faces looked offended at his presence. Cedric nodded at him when he sat down and conjured some cutlery and a plate. His best friend was engaged in charming conversation with a few ladies from Beauxbatons

"This is my best mate, Harry." Cedric introduced.

Harry smiled at the disapproving but polite nods of the girls - or the competition, in Harry's mind. He looked at each of them carefully as they exchanged introductions. They didn't look happy to meet him, maybe vexed by his appearance. One of them had a heart shaped faced with brown bangs - Michelle, she introduced. The other looked regal with a bold face structure, and had small features with immaculately trimmed golden locks - Adeline. Another, Amie, had a round face juxtaposed by a sharp chin - black, raven hair. The handshakes spanned from flimsy and clammy to strong and cold. The last girl hadn't bothered to introduce herself, and was engaged in flirtatious conversation with Roger Davies (the handsome Ravenclaw boy from their year). When it reached her turn for the compulsory introduction, she merely looked at his hand outstretched and then dug into his eyes with an unfeeling gaze. This one definitely didn't like him. She was probably the prettiest girl he had ever seen though. And he didn't feel any less attracted to her when she asked him, in a temperedly sarcastic and sweet lark voice, "do you always arrive late when guests come to your school?" Harry raised his eyebrows and withdrew his hand.

"Harry doesn't own a watch." Cedric blurted: a sorry defense.

She, who had turned back to speak to Mr. Davis so that only her profile was visible - with her blue eyes (that looked like the burnished sea in a painting), pale skin and her silver, tumbling hair - did not bother to pay any extraneous attention to him, only coldly remarking, "Watches are for mannered people. Do you own a watch, Roger?"

Mr. Davis, already supremely taken with the girl, blushed shyly and looked apologetically at Harry. "I certainly do, Fleur." He pulled the sleeve of his robe to show off his golden watch.

So her name was Fleur. He couldn't help but stare at her, partly perplexed by her reaction to him - Harry had grown to become unaccustomed to criticism, and partly by her beauty - which looked like lyrical verse; each part of her face a different line of a canto. Her neck was generously long, its skin so pale it seemed to catch the romping flames of the floating candles.

"So, Harry, will you be entering the Triwizard tournament?" The girl called Adeline asked.

"Indeed. I will be. Yourself?"

"All of the Beauxbatons students will be entering." She responded to the smiles and nods of the girls around her, except for the Fleur girl, of course.

Cedric grinned. "It'll come down to Harry, I'm sure. He's our school's most brilliant wizard."

"Is he?" Michelle asked, scrunching up her face in cute scrutiny. "Are you related to Isabella Potter, Harry?"

"Yes. She's my baby sister. And I wouldn't say I'm the school's most brilliant wizard, though that was very flattering of you, Cedric, but I will say that the competition won't be over timekeeping, so I'm hopeful I'll have a shot." Harry replied, nonchalantly.

Cedric laughed at his pointed scorn and Cho just slapped her palm on her face in embarrassment. The other girls giggled. "Sounds like he'll be good competition for Fleur. She's basically our school's Harry." Michelle said.

Fleur responded with visible annoyance and turned her head to shoot a glare at Michelle.

"A match made in the heavens, indeed." Adeline winked. The table of students laughed. Harry cut his steak with a Diffindo charm and munched on it, holding his fork strangely, gripping the cutlery in a fist. He always ate like this when he was distracted.

"I'm afraid I'm no Roger Davis, Adeline. He has a watch unlike me, and I don't think I can reach those heights." Harry replied, laughing at himself.

Fleur gave him a dirty look and scrutinized him, no doubt looking for more points of criticism. "He also has the class to hold a fork properly and doesn't have to use a charm to cut his food." She added. The more she talked the more Harry could hear her accent. Emotions leaked the mannerisms that people tried to hide.

"Did you hear that? Mr. Davis also knows how to hold a fork. I hope the Triwizard Tournament doesn't test us on that as well as timekeeping, otherwise I'll have absolutely no shot. Cedric, you'll have to take my place when I'm killed by my negligence over these elusive table manners." Harry said, as he munched extra loudly on another piece of steak.

Cedric burst out laughing and some water dripped out of his mouth, which the girls reacted to with extreme delight. "Alright, Harry, I'll make sure of it. Now stop bullying Ms. Delacour." He said patting him on the shoulder.

Amie smiled shyly. "We are sorry if we have offended you, Harry."

"Fleur is secretly really nice. She's just shy." Michelle added with a cheeky smile.

"I can defend myself." Fleur spoke in a dignified way, although it was clear she was embarrassed, her white skin doing little to hide the rosiness that was blooming on her soft cheeks. Strangely enough, Harry felt even more attracted to her as she grew emotive.

"Roger, you know it's all in good fun." He smiled and shook Roger's hand, ignoring Fleur, who ignored him back.

"Harry, sorry if this came off the wrong way. Not my fault Fleur doesn't seem to like you. " Roger replied, half-seriously. Fleur encouragingly stroked his arm.

"Oh, I'm sure I'll be able to find some way of dealing with it." He replied immediately, his face suddenly void of emotion and his eyes dark again, this time glaring at Fleur, whose eyes flinched away.

Cho, who was like Cedric, in that she could tell when Harry was actually getting angry, but, unlike Cedric, always tried to calm the social atmosphere, joined in to keep the peace. "Roger, Harry adores you, he's just a dunderhead."

Cedric nodded vigorously, understanding his girlfriend's motives. "Mr. Potter is deeply flawed, you see. No social niceties. No manners. Only very mildly attractive. No girlfriend. It's quite depressing really. No talent on the Quidditch pitch, despite a very gifted little sister. He's just jealous of you, Roger, old boy!" He laughed mirthfully. Cedric always had a way with words that made everyone feel at ease, a good combo with Harry. And Roger began to laugh away, catching Fleur's smile with his beautiful looks.

"No girlfriend, Harry? Did you scare them away with your...with your table manners?" Michelle asked spookily, in exaggerated horror.

"He probably lost track of the time and made her wait for hours." Adeline said. She had a sharp sense of humor. These new friends were fun.

Harry smiled at her, relaxing his face and finally turning away from Fleur. "I suppose so. I'm not very good at feelings." He laughed. "I'm very depressing, for sure."

Cho explained. "He's not just 'not good', he's terrible. Only Cedric and his sister can understand him. I've known him for almost two years now and he's still just a moody enigma."

"Not much of a mystery once you get to know him though. Just another graceless, ill-mannered, uneducated brat." Cedric informed. This was Cedric's little way of defending him.

"Now that we've established my slow ways. Ms. Delacour?" He asked.

Fleur's head turned uncertainly in response. "Will you allow me the pleasure of giving you my paw for an apology?" Harry asked with sincerity,.

She stuck out her hand aristocratically, her fingers thin and lightly drifting across the air. Fleur tilted her head up as though she were deigning to touch his hand. Gosh, she was proud. Different too, though. It wasn't everyday someone had the gall to challenge him. He took her hand shook it, but as he did he could feel magic channeling through her hands and into him. What kind of sorcery was this? Harry was starting to think his attraction to her wasn't natural. He had never felt so suddenly infatuated and fascinated with someone. Her nose, perfectly shaped (noses were always the hardest to get right), her ears (slightly tipped at the ends like an elf), her lips small, shapely and blood red (so full of life). Her looks were weaved together into a commentary on beauty, not in a caricature like Harry's.

Wait. He never cared before, why was he self-conscious out of nowhere. This was odd. It wasn't like him to feel like this. The powerful logic of Harry's mind removed his emotions from the conversation and the light in his eyes vanished, hiding away at the unpredictability of the situation. Harry unbound himself from Fleur's hand and time, which was slowed down, came back to life. No one but Cedric noticed the change in Harry's face, and he grew concerned at his friend. Harry only looked like this when he was on full power and figuring something out - he never had this face on during dinner, only during situations like when Harry had figured out it was him that opened the Chamber of Secrets, or when he realised he had no choice but to frame Lockhart for the crime. The whole change occurred over the course of a second, but to Cedric it looked as obvious as night and day.

"Was touching a woman too much for you?" Fleur smirked arrogantly. Everyone laughed raucously, except for Cedric who had forced himself to giggle, and Harry, who smiled with an expression that did not reach his eyes.

Harry's smile grew longer and thinner.. He looked dangerous. "Might have been the case. It's been so long." He moaned sarcastically. "And that handshake felt positively...how do I put this? Oh yes...magical." He said emphasizing the last word, watching the faces of the girls carefully, who had all responded to his comment with strong reactions. Michelle looked away. Adeline's eyes widened, and Amie's turned puzzlingly at Fleur. Obviously, they knew what was going on. Fleur too breathed uneasily and a hint of guilt was on her face, like that of a liar caught red-handed.

"Don't worry, boy. I'm sure you'll touch another hand one day. Take this as practice." She said, aiming a sweet smile at him. Harry could see the attraction within him growing again, but this time she tried in vain - he was ready for it.

"I prefer the hands of boys. But thank you for the tutelage." He replied. Cedric grinned, the light was back in Harry's eyes, and the girls relaxed as well, giggling. Fleur's smile was gone in a flash.

"Wait, are you gay, Harry?" Michelle interjected, speedily.

"I don't really care, to be honest. Half and half, maybe?" Harry said, turning at her. "But for you I'd turn straight any day."

Michelle smiled gaily at his comment and batted her eyelashes at him.

Cho choked on and snorted on her water, diverting attention towards her. "Harry, how cheesy can you get?"

Fleur was barely paying attention to Mr. Davis anymore. She kept stealing glances at Harry. She must have been mystified by how her magic didn't work. Harry laughed in his head.

"Sorry. I told you I'm not good at flirting. Cedric, you'll have to teach me how to talk love." Harry patted his friend's shoulder. "And how to hold hands and kiss." Harry added, stroking his shoulder now.

"That can be arranged. Cho, can you lend me to Harry for a day or two?" Cedric cracked, touching Harry's hand and looking at him romantically. The table laughed in good humor, except for Fleur who continued looking disarmed.

"No. Harry, back off. You weirdo. Go flirt with Michelle, leave my boyfriend alone." Cho glared at him, pulling Cedric closer to her and away from him. Michelle smiled again, blushing a tad bit, otherwise handling the attention with expertise.

"Dumbledore's speaking. Let's listen." Harry said, distracted suddenly from the conversation. He went on about eternal glory and the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

Harry got up from the table before the crowd did and smiled kindly at the visitors. "I must see my sister before the day ends. It was great meeting all of you." They smiled back at him, while Fleur nodded coldly.

Off to find Izzy. She would help him discern if this was Legilimency or not. She could always see the parts of Harry that he himself didn't understand. It was definitely magic, though. Perhaps her attractiveness addled his brain to help smooth the process along? She was individually incredibly beautiful, but there was something more, wasn't there?

"Izzy, is it normal that shaking someone pretty's hand can feel like Legilimency?" He asked, as he accompanied her and her two friends out of the Hall.

"Um...that's a strange question, older brother. I don't think so?" Izzy responded, looking weirded out.

"Whose hand did you shake?" Hermione asked, jumping into the conversation.

"This girl from Beauxbatons called Fleur Delacour." He replied.

"Oh. Well... Harry, you see-"

"Harry. She's quarter Veela, mate. She's gorgeous, isn't she?" Ron replied, looking longingly in her vicinity. Has the Weasel forgotten his devoted love for his sister already?

"Yes, Harry, they have the power to lull people into becoming attracted to them with their magic. Of course, it's not real love, just infatuation." Hermione explained.

"I can't believe you didn't know that, Harry, I thought you knew everything." Izzy laughed at him, mockingly.

Harry stared at her with incredulity. "Why would I ever learn about something as random as that? It's such obscure information…"

"Well now you know, older brother. Now if you'll excuse us, we must head to bed. Goodnight!" Izzy said as she walked up the stairs, waving at him.

He sighed. It was a strange day. He had to do research on these 'Veela', Harry didn't appreciate having his emotions tampered with. He didn't have a good history of being manipulated by magic after being possessed by Tom Riddle during the whole Chamber of Secrets fiasco.

As he was leaving the Great Hall, a young first year from Gryffindor stopped him and handed him a note.

"What's this supposed to be?" Harry asked, taking the note and examining it.

"Professor Dumbledore said to give it to you, Harry."

"He could have picked a Slytherin instead… Alright then, go on."

The boy scurried off and Harry left the crowd of exiting students to read the note.

"Dear Harry,

I would like to have a conversation about your Isabelle Potter with you. Would you be kind enough to come to my office? I hear that Lemon Drippers are particularly tasty when eaten with a well-brewed coffee.

Albus Dumbledore"

Harry wondered why the Headmaster wanted to speak to him. They had never had a talking relationship, the old man always preferring the company of his little sister. Gelly mentioned he was a kind man with a beautiful soul, with not much regard for the conventional moralities. A utilitarian who sees the world as past and future - the present merely a means for a better tomorrow. It was probably a biased assessment, considering Gelly's irrevocable love for him.

Harry walked up to the Gargoyle outside the headmaster's room and said, "Lemon Drippers."

It turned and moved, revealing a set of steps which Harry walked up.

The headmaster's office was as grand as ever, lit by orange and red candles lighting the ovular room, its walls lined with high shelves of books. There were tomes in differently levelled stacks around his oak desk, and one was opened. Dumbledore was flipping through his book with a delicate touch, as though he were reading something sacred. He closed the book and gestured for him to sit down .

"Hello Harry, how are you today? Are you entering the tournament? With you entering I'd be arrogant enough to claim that we might win this year."

"I am well, Headmaster, thank you for the question. I am indeed entering. May I ask what brings me here?"

Dumbledore shut his book and stared with his twinkling blue eyes at Harry. "Although few know the truth of the last few years, we are both aware that you are an exceptional wizard with the courage and perseverance to have protected your sister from numerous threats. Of course, your love for your sister has saved her life but it has also damaged your soul."

"What do you mean," Harry asked coldly.

"Harry, my boy, did you think that erasing Professor Lockhart's memory would escape my notice? Though justified, I cannot turn a blind eye to you anymore, especially after hearing about your attempts to grow in power with Professor Snape."

"Prove it. Prove I had anything to do with Lockhart and I'll gladly go to Azkaban." Harry shielded his mind as he started to sweat.

"No need for Occlumency. We both know what we know. I wonder, though. Can a soul really be cleansed without action?" Dumbledore asked, raising his half-moon glasses.

"I'm protecting my sister, that is plenty of action. And my soul has not been sullied. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Professor McGonagall has heard the mumblings you make when you fall asleep in her classes. You have been hurt in so many ways by the Dursleys and yet you never complain about them, and yet Lockhart's name has been mentioned more than once. The grapevine seems to show that some students suspect you as well. But you've remained intact, perhaps barely. That shows powerful resolve and sacrifice. You are driven by love, Harry. And yet your soul cannot heal unless you redeem yourself," Dumbledore mused.

"I do what I have to do. You awarded me for it and so did the ministry. And don't think I forgot who put me with those abusive bastards," Harry sniped.

After moments of silence and eye contact, Harry stood up and slapped his hands on the table. "What do you want from me?"

"Only to give you the chance to heal."

"Forget about it. I don't know what you're talking about." Harry said as he stormed out of the office.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry tried every sleeping position but sleep would not come. Hand under pillow turned that arm numb. Lying on his back was too passive, and he started to hear his heart pulse which frightened him as he began to count the rhythm obsessively, afeared that it would suddenly end. Trying the other hand under his pillow just felt wrong. Growing tired of the gauntlet, he put on his coat left his room after casting a Disillusionment Charm.

The moon was desperate to be noticed and was undeniably silver in the navy sky, threaded by lines of clouds criss crossing around the bulb of light. He treaded down a familiar path, the same place he went down whenever he couldn't sleep. It was around four in the morning and it was comforting to be so alone. All the trees and grass were silhouettes and shadows, like they weren't real, except he could hear his boots breaking the crispy grass.

He sat on the grounds and thought about tomorrow. There was no doubt in his mind that he would win if he was selected as champion. What was Dumbledore going to do now that he knew Harry was part of the plot to wipe Lockhart's memories and place him in Azkaban. He covered his tracks perfectly, there was nothing tying him to the act. And it was for the greater good. It was not evil.

And would he be selected as the champion? There was no doubt in his mind that he was the most talented student in the school, and his mind was an overly critical judge, so by that logic, the Goblet of Fire would certainly choose him. But why did he want to join? Was it actually an act of intimidation for Izzy's enemies? Or was he, as he feared, just trying to escape Izzy's shadow? That wasn't the right motivation. Stick to who you are, Harry chanted twice. He was nothing more than Izzy's shield. Nothing.

He ended his worries about the Tournament there, and sat on the ground to watch the silver rays rippling along the crest of the water. It was unusually bright on this spot around the huge lake, and Harry could see trees that had been stripped bare of their leaves only to lie jagged and naked like black veins; and shapes of rabbits bounding around unbothered by the restless world. He wished he was a rabbit sometimes. Harry knew he had an intelligence that most people were impressed or amazed by, but that came with a complexity in his mind. Repetition, boredom, questions with no answers that you journey along forever (like following a path only to realise that it was only a road and nothing else - no classic award at the end). He couldn't unravel much of himself. Even what he feared most (fear is such a primal emotion) was one that escaped him. Lupin's boggart refused to appear in front of him.

But still, Fleur, even if she had used magic on him, reminded him of his human simplicity, and that he couldn't pick and choose who and how he felt about them. Family was easy. Cedric was easy. Girls weren't supposed to be a part of his equation. There was so much more to remember. Besides if relationships were to work out then who's to say that they wouldn't be unhappy in them. And if they truly knew him, how his mind operated and how he thought, wouldn't they become horrified?

Harry was worried. There was a strangeness that had been in Hogwarts ever since Izzy had entered the school. Events after events, every year. There was no doubt in his mind that Voldemort was returning. And he knew what he would become if he were to defend his little sister, no longer good, no longer justifiable, the only comfort being that it was done for the greater good.

A pitter patter of footsteps like drizzle was approaching him from the back. An enemy? Harry was holding his wand, ready with a protego spell, until that larksong sang..

"What are you doing up so early?" She said in an interrogative voice.

Harry continued looking away at the lake.

"What are you doing up so late? Hasn't your headmistress told you that Hogwarts isn't the same at night as it is during the day?" He asked back.

Fleur sat beside him, one leg crossed over the other relaxedly and whispered to him, breathily. "To answer your question, I take walks in the morning when my mind is unsettled. And I'm not in the Hogwarts grounds, am I? The Beauxbatons carriage is right over there. People can hear me if I shout." She said.

She was close to him, so close that he could smell lemons and orchids.

"I sit here when I can't sleep." He replied, still leering at the beauty of the lake.

"Are you nervous about the champion selection tomorrow?" She asked, pulling out threads of grass and tying them into knots.

"Not particularly. I come here to remember. And to remind myself…" He turned to watch her playing with the grass.

"About what?" She asked, turning to look at him. He forgot how beautiful she was. Was this part of her allure?

"Why do you want to know?" He asked impassionately.

"I'm curious." She said innocently. "What other reason do I need?".

"The morning is a strange time. It can make you forget your tastes." Harry mused.

" I still don't like you. I'm just curious." She said, her voice steely.

Fine, if she wanted to know, he could share a bit.

"I come here to remember."

"I see. What are these things you remember?" She asked

"They're none of your business."

The clouds continued to graze on the night sky and the rabbits bounded about. Harry deflected. "And I guess you're here because you're nervous about the champion selection. You can't exactly charm an object."

Her pale face pinkened while she hid her face with a demure turn of the neck. "You knew about that?"

"It's not the strongest magic in the world. Perhaps you should have a chosen a stupider victim. The same tricks don't work twice on me."

"I wasn't even using all my power, I wasn't trying to make you fall in love me or cause you danger."

"Then why did you try it?"

"You were being very rude to me and you embarrassed me in front of my friends. I'm not as funny as you are. It was the only way I could get back at you. Most people don't understand what is going on when it happens. I apologise for this underhanded behaviour." She said sincerely.

"Don't apologise. I just want to understand." He said. Harry didn't think that Fleur knew quite why she tried her allure on Harry. But he had some idea. A girl as beautiful as Fleur, who people treated like a goddess for being pretty; she probably resorted to her magic to assuage her confusion. But at least she was apologising. "I can be tactless sometimes and impolite. I didn't grow up normally, so I find it hard to fit into the structures of society. The only role model I had was my crazy grandfather. And boy, he is nuts."

"A crazy grandfather? So he's the reason for your constant faux pas? Tell me more about him." She asked, surprised but also entertained. Her interest was peaked, while her eyebrows (a little thick) levelled dramatically. Every expression was a different face.

Harry loved talking about Gelly, he just had to do it correctly. If he revealed too much he might reveal the identity of his grandfather. "He is brilliant but eccentric. And he has no table manners either. I eat the way he does, especially in how I carry my fork. And I don't like it when people criticise me for how I hold my cutlery." He glared at Fleur who blushed and looked away. "It's a habit that I'm proud of. Small parts of your loved ones are carried over sometimes and I love that there's a bit of my grandfather in me. I'm glad to have something to remind me of my loved one at home."

"I understand. That is a lovely thought, isn't it?" She smiled. "I tend to stick my nose up at people like maman does when I'm feeling embarrassed or shy. Most people are under the impression that the gesture conveys condescension or arrogance on my part, but it's, how you say, a defence mechanism." Fleur said.

Harry did remember that expression. "Show me, Ms. Delacour." He demanded, jokingly.

"It has to come naturally. I'm not a good actor, Mr. Potter." She replied, sheepishly.

"Just try it." He said.

"No. You'll have to discover it yourself." She replied, smiling sweetly at him.

Harry gave up.

Fleur continued talking. "It seems you are very close to this grandfather of yours. You said 'loved one', not 'loved ones', do you have no other family besides your little sister?"

"I really am close to him. He was there for me when I needed him. And he gave me direction when I was lost. I couldn't bear to think what life would be like without him. I don't consider the other relatives I have as family, except for my little cousin Dudley, who's not so little anymore." Harry gestured a belly.

"Is little Dudley fat now?" Fleur giggled.

"He insists he's just chubby and big boned." Harry said.

"Alright, sure he is." She poked with skepticism.

"This is strange, I've only ever told Cedric about my family and it took him a lot more coaxing. You're using your allure on me again, aren't you?" Harry's eyes came to focus and glared at Fleur.

"Non, non. I swear, I wasn't. We were just having a conversation." She recoiled and frantically waved her hands in a defiant 'not guilty' manner.

"I know. I'm just messing with you." Harry grinned.

And for the first time, Harry heard Fleur laugh, heard her whole body trembling with it. She laughed from the heart.

"Tell me more about your family. You know so much about me but I know nothing about you."

"Another confession, Harry, before we continue with this conversation. I have researched you before, before I arrived at Hogwarts. I was trying to understand the competition." Fleur said guiltily.

"So what were your conclusions?" Harry asked curiously. It wasn't a big deal. If he honestly perceived her as a threat he would have done the same thing.

"I found during dinner that they were entirely mistaken. But perhaps I've found something better." She said, looking at the lake as well now with a tender smile on her face.

"What have you found then?"

"That a secret, Harry." Fleur said smiling shyly at him and playing with her tresses of silver.

"Alright, fair enough. Go on about your family." Harry said.

Fleur sat in thought for a while before answering. "My father is a very structured man. Poetic, during his sabbaticals, but mostly ambitious. He always taught me that the only thing separating humans from beasts is our social propriety." She turned to him thoughtfully. "I suppose we are opposites in that way."

"I suppose we are." Harry nodded. "I guess we've proven the old adage wrong, haven't we?" He said.

"Which one?" She asked.

"That opposites attract." He said smiling.

"Ye..Yes…I guess we have." Fleur replied unsurely.

"Silly little idea, anyway." Harry laughed. "Thank you for the conversation, Fleur, and I apologise in advance for ending this conversation this way. But please do not use your allure on me again. I have a….bad past with magical manipulation."

He could still remember Riddle's voice telling him to kill his own sister and how close he came to it.

"It does not work like that, Mr. Potter. I can't control it unless I focus. It's like a large ball, how you say in English, like an aura? Aura."

"And it becomes harder to control as I become feel more passionate or emotional."

"Does that ever become annoying for you?" Harry asked.

"Why would it be annoying?" Fleur replied, confused.

"Wherever you go, people leer at you and become infatuated at a glance." He replied.

"The boys I've been with weren't with me because of the Allure. It is an ability that cannot sustain a relationship, since it can only create infatuation and attraction, not love." She explained. "And the attention isn't all that bad. Most of the time, it's great for my self-esteem. There are some scary people that approach me, but I have my magic to defend myself.

"I see. That makes sense, I suppose. Are people ever immune to it?"

"People that have no attraction to me whatsoever are immune. To be honest, the passive influence of the Allure isn't particularly strong. It just makes silly boys fall for me. There is an elaborate set of variations to other Veela magic. But I will, however, promise not to use them on you on purpose. On one condition." She held up one finger.

"What is that?" Harry asked.

"Since we're both likely to be our school's champions, we won't need to go to classes, would it be correct in assuming that?"

"That's very humble of you." He snorted.

"As Michelle said, you're the male Fleur. And, let's not joke ourselves, I'm acquainted with your achievements both within and outside school." She said.

"They were all luck." Harry mumbled humbly.

"Luck or talent and hard work? Here's my request, Harry. Since we don't need to wake up early. Meet me again tomorrow, at midnight, and tell me more of your stories." She said, her voice too confident, her nose sticking up very high.

"Why do you want to hear my stories?" He asked. Didn't she say she still hated him?

"Because I think you're interesting, and I've only had a canape of Harry Potter. Why else?" She said, her face turning pink.

"I thought you didn't like me." Harry asked.

"How interesting someone is does not make them more or less likable, only interesting." She said, regaining composure.

"I have a condition as well, then." Harry said after thinking about it.

"You have a condition too?" Fleur asked.

"Yes. You have to tell me more about you in exchange." Harry smiled.

Fleur smiled back at him. "Alright. Shall we shake hands to make this official?"

"I'm still afraid of your handshakes. They leave me breathless, remember?" He reminded her of their first conversation, and she blushed in embarrassment

"How about a fist bump instead?" Harry asked.

"What is a fist bump?" She asked.

"It's where you bump fists like this." He demonstrated with his two hands.

"No, I will not do something as crass as that. Since I was the first female hand you touched, I will now give you your first female embrace." Fleur said, her cheeks still red, and her breathing uncontrollable, but still in a confident voice.

She stood up and he could see pieces of grass stuck to her bottom. Her white dress was covered by a black coat. She had a beautiful figure. He moved closer to her and she stepped towards him, and they embraced. He could smell her hair intensely (the orchids and the lemons).But he had hugged Izzy before. His fingers stroked her back as he nuzzled her neck, and she did so too in return, caressing his neck. He could feel something stirring inside. Her beauty. Her smile. The moon. He ripped himself away with a start, pushing her back as well, as he realised that some magic must have been happening. Whatever that was felt very much like the allure, like magic. Did she have some way to get by his defences?

"What's wrong?" She said, looking worried and hurt.

"I said no allure." Harry spat out angrily.

"I suppressed it entirely. Did you...did you still feel something?" Fleur asked, her pale skin red, her voice trembling.

"Yes. Good night, Ms Delacour. I don't think I'll be able to make it tomorrow." Harry spat with finality as he left her alone in the moonlight. He felt betrayed. Didn't he just tell her that he had a bad experience with Riddle's notebook? The Horcrux corrupted and possessed him. For a long time he couldn't even remember who he was, or what he was. He decided he was done with her. What an unpleasant way to kill a lovely night.


	7. Chapter 7

"Mind if I sit with you today?" Harry asked with frustration clearly embedded in his voice.

"Is it important?" Izzy asked, preferring if he sat with Cedric instead.

Harry sat beside her and Hermione - Ron was on the seat opposite them, and had become wide-eyed and mute after noticing Harry's presence. He even ate more politely. It was the night when the Triwizard champions would be chosen. Harry hadn't had the chance to speak to Izzy today yet, since he had to push his lesson with Snape earlier so that they could both make the ceremony. But his conversation with Fleur yesterday morning still weighed on his mind, and he hadn't been able to get her out of his head.

"What's up, older brother?" She asked mildly, noticing the trouble etched over his face.

The dinner was energetic tonight, and the food was more exquisite than usual, but Harry was in no mood to eat. He was anxious to find out if both he and Fleur would be chosen as Triwizard Champion. If that was the case, there would be no avoiding her at all. He preferred it if he could cut her completely out of his life. Harry felt as if he had no time to be dealing with someone that could cause him so much stress.

Harry started recounting last night's events. "Anyway, so it was a lovely conversation until the end, when I felt something in me that I hadn't felt before while we were embracing and I thought she was using the Allure on me. She reassured me that she had entirely suppressed it, but I didn't believe her at the time, and I'm...doubting myself now."

"That was...quite a story. Very exciting as well. She's the prettiest girl I've ever seen, Harry, all the boys in Gryffindor are talking about her." Izzy excitedly stated.

Hermione had overheard the whole conversation, as well. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to speak about this next to her. "It sounds to me, Harry, that either she used her Allure on you, or you just have feelings for her." She said, a forlorn smile bracing. "And I really don't think she was using the Allure."

Harry covered his face with his hands. "It would make no sense whatsoever if she did. I wronged her. Oh, how am I supposed to fix this, girls. I didn't even know I could feel like that about someone. I had no idea what it was."

Izzy comforted him, rubbing his back. "It's not too late. Don't despair yet, Harry! Just write her a really sweet note or something. But you better move fast, all the guys are trying their luck in chirpsing her. I hear Roger Davis and her are really getting along!" She added, just to bully him.

"Mate, you're one lucky guy." Ron's each word was accompanied by spraying morsels of food.

"Ronald, don't talk while your mouth's full." Hermione said, crossed at him, folding her arms in disapproval.

"A sweet note. I got it." Harry said, his eyes clear and bright. He knew exactly how to proceed. Harry turned and began writing.

Dearest Fleur,

I confused your Allure with your natural charm. I've never felt that way before, and wasn't acquainted with those feelings. I've made a terrible mistake. I'll be waiting for you under the quiet boughs of the lone border of the lake.

Sincerely,

Harry

No, was that too much? Dearest, or dear? Did he sound overly eager? Perhaps he should change it to: "I was mistaken."

But that might sound too cold. He'll keep terrible. Why was he so afraid of being vulnerable and not being in control? Was he afraid of rejection? So what if he was rejected, he still had his family, and Gelly, and Cedric, and Izzy. Even his body was telling him that he was interested. So many things were already destined, why was he so affected by this particular one, where a fate lies unfairly in but two hands of a duo? Harry couldn't understand himself. Was he worried that it would get in the way of his destiny? His destiny which had taught him to repress all his personal desires to become the person that his sister needed? Why couldn't he do both?

"Harry! Listen, Dumbledore is announcing the Hogwarts Champion!" Izzy whispered loudly into his ear, holding his hand for, Harry supposed, good luck. The whole room was silent. A nervous air loomed all over, and even Harry's heart was pounding.

"And the Hogwarts Champion is...Harry Potter!" Dumbledore announced with a grandfather beam and a strange look. .

The whole room applauded loudly, Snape stood up to clap, and the entire Slytherin house did as well. Cedric and Cho gave him the thumbs up as they left their chairs too. The other houses weren't as generous, but that was enough. Izzy turned and gave him a kiss on the cheek, and Hermione, caught up in the moment, kissed his other cheek as well, immediately ducking and hiding her head away as she realised the whole Hall was staring at them. He took the parchment from the table pocketed it before standing, kissing his first two fingers and pumping his fist in the air. Of course, he won. He walked up to the High Table and gave his audience an ostentatious bow to another round of applause, before being led to the Champions room by Ludo Bagman.

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter." Ludo Bagman gave him a greasy smile and shook his hand ferociously. " I must leave to collect the other champions, please take a seat here while you wait."

As he sat looking through his parchment, he heard another thunderous round of applause, and then the door creak open to the scent of lilacs. She walked in, with her uniform, which fit tightly around all the right areas, and her beautiful hair brushed to silken perfection dangling under her shoulders. Fleur was led to the seat next to Harry's by Ludo Bagman, where she sat down and crossed her legs.

After she subtly glanced at he was doing, she deliberately looked away from Harry for the next few moments and haughtily moved a few seats away from him. The wizard finished waving his wand at the piece of parchment and handed her the letter, which he had folded in half, enchanted with the scent of incense, and written her name on with beautiful calligraphy.

She took the piece of parchment reluctantly and eyed Harry suspiciously, before reading it slowly (a few times from what Harry could tell - her irises scanning down and up again). Finally, she put it away preciously into her shirt pocket. Harry could see her working hard to make up her mind, and he could see when she had arrived at a decision, her red lips splitting open so slowly.

"You're going to have to do better than that if you want to make it up to me, Harry Potter." She said, her face leaking an excitement she tried hard to suppress, ending up in half a scowl and half a smile. Even in that disharmony of expressions she was beautiful.

Harry smirked confidently at her, and she playfully harrumphed at him. The two had not noticed the Durmstrang Champion, Viktor Krum, who had entered the room with Bagman and sat next to them, until he spoke, ending their little dance.

"So, you are the competition, huh? This will be interesting tournament. Best of luck to the two of you." Viktor said in a deep voice.

Fleur nodded politely, steeling her gaze, and shook his hand. Harry did so as well. "Best of luck to you too, Mr. Krum. I watched you play at the World Cup. You are, extraordinary. Let's hope you aren't as good at Quidditch as you are at magical ability." Harry smiled.

"Please, call me Viktor. I have heard a lot about you as well, my friend. This will be interesting competition, between athlete and scholar." He said, grinning with excitement, before turning to Fleur. "You are Fleur Delacour, yes? You have reputation as well, for skill and talent."

"Of course I do. I'll be the one to win this." Fleur declared, proudly.

Before they could finish their conversation, however, Izzy had opened the door and walked into the room weakly, her adorable green eyes looking close to tears.

"Izzy?" Harry ran up to her and held her by the shoulders. "Izzy, what's wrong? What happened?" He said with urgency.

"They said I have to compete as the Fourth Champion. But I didn't put my name in the Goblet." Izzy said, hugging Harry's waist.

"Don't worry, Izzy, I'll sort this whole thing out. I'll have a word with Dumbledore, alright?" Harry said, stroking her hair.

"Harry, is everything alright?" Fleur asked.

"There was some malfunction with the Goblet and for some reason Izzy's name was selected to compete. I'm sure we can solve the misunderstanding." Harry replied. But Harry wasn't so sure. Wasn't there some sort of binding magical contract? Dear goodness. That meant someone had put her name in there, which could only mean one thing: that someone was out to get her.

The professors, headmasters and mistress, and the government officials, bursted into the room. Dumbledore went straight up to Izzy and asked her, almost interrogatively.

"Isabella, did you put your name on the Goblet of Fire?" He asked, loudly.

"No, no, of course I didn't." She replied, looking down in fear.

"Well. Ms. Potter has a propensity for attention seeking behaviour. This wouldn't be out of her modus operandi." Snape sneered.

"Dumbledore, we cannot allow you to have two competitors. This is against the rules. Especially since they are siblings. They could band together and form an alliance to take out our hardworking, honest students." Karkaroff warned.

The tall woman, the headmistress of Beauxbatons argued back. "You think because they are siblings they will work together? That will make little difference. This is a competition for the best of our schools. Isabella is a little girl. She will stand no chance and be in much danger."

"Headmaster Karkaroff, I'd appreciate if you wouldn't slander Isabella or Hogwarts like that. If we are forced to compete, our students will abide by the rules." McGonagall said, defending her Gryffindor.

"Mr. Crouch, is there anyway to work around this rule?" Dumbledore asked, after contemplating the issue at hand, pinching his nose in stress.

"I'm afraid not, Dumbledore. Isabella Lily Potter will have no choice, but to compete in the Triwizard Tournament." Crouch declared to the horror of everyone in the room.

"This is outrageous. Your age-line couldn't keep a girl that's barely fourteen-years old from bypassing it?" Karkaroff yelled.

"I assure you, my age-line was impeccable. I don't know what happened, but what has happened has happened. The Goblet will not allow more students to be chosen. We must deal with what we have. We may discuss this after our students leave. I think our young Isabella has suffered enough of our scrutiny today." Dumbledore said, nodding that the champions may leave.

Harry was shaking with anxiety and anger. Someone in the school had done this. There was a plot here, a plot to murder his little sister. There was no mistaking it. But he would never let that happen. He would kill thousands of people before he let that happen.

The Great Hall was empty, and Krum had left to return to his abode, with Fleur walking slowly behind the siblings. He held his sister's hand as they walked. Who was it? No student could have done it. It must have been someone older, either one of the headmasters, one of the ministry officials, or one of the professors. Harry would bet that it was Moody, now to prove it, and to kill him if he had to. He had to be strong for Izzy, and not let her see any of the fear in his eyes.

"Izzy, would you like to sleep in my room tonight?" Harry asked, kindly, whispering into her ear and kissing her forehead.

"Would that be okay?" She asked, her eyes bloodshot from tears, sniffling.

"Of course, my dear. I'll make you invisible so we can sneak you in, alright?" He smiled, petting her head. "Just wait here for a second, while I speak to Fleur, okay?"

Harry walked away from her. Izzy turned to watch him and Fleur interact, still sniffling every few minutes. "Fleur, I'm sorry but I might not be able to make it tonight. If Izzy falls asleep, I'll try my best to come. But it would better for you not to wait up for me."

Fleur nodded understandingly. "I have a little sister as well. I understand how you feel, Harry. Come if you can but your sister needs your company more than I do." She said stroking Harry's cheek, letting her fingers linger.

She stroked his cheek. What did that mean? Did just friends do that? Harry smiled tenderly at her, and took one last glimpse at her wonderfully blue eyes, before leaving with Izzy.

"I know this is the wrong time to say this. But she probably likes you, Harry." Izzy giggled through her tears and sniffles.

"Read the room, Izzy. I don't think there's much space for romance right now. Come on, let's go to my room."

Harry's mind was in a blaze. On one hand he was concerned for Izzy's safety, the Tri-wizard Tournament had a long list of victims, on the other hand he couldn't help but feel like he was back under Izzy's shadow, tumbling into a little alcove where the only light was Izzy, not him. How much did he want? How much greed did he possess. Harry shook away his feeling and pushed them down, deep into the depths of his heart. He couldn't help but smile bitterly at his and his little sister's luck. Who the heck put her name in? He was going to find the culprit and they would pay a price more painful than death.

 **A/N People are slightly nicer to her because her reputation was not as poor as canon Harry. I really need a beta. Someone please help if you can. Drop me a private if you're inexperienced I'd love someone to bounce ideas off of!  
**


	8. Chapter 8

When Izzy had fallen asleep, Harry moved her arm away from his chest and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He walked over to the lake and saw that Fleur had rolled up her trousers and was dipping her feet into the water, her socks lying across her black shoes behind her. She heard him coming and smiled at him.

"Hi." He said, the sound of his word whirling like silent smoke dissipating through the air.

"The lake is so pretty. I see why you come here at night." Fleur said, staring into the silver moon that swirled gradually into the colorless water.

"Shall we talk?" He interrupted tactlessly, unaccustomed to the moment and the workings of sentimentality.

"Don't force the moment to its crisis, Harry. Let's enjoy this scenery while nothing is going in the world," She replied. "Does your sister feel any better?" Fleur asked.

Harry exhaled slowly. "A little bit. She's fragile right now. I didn't force her to talk about how she felt."

"Don't. That will only drive her away."

"I understand her less and less as the years go by. But she keeps getting into these fixes, even though I know they aren't her fault. It makes me want to just keep her in a little room where nothing can harm her." Harry confessed.

"Are you always this controlling?" Fleur laughed relaxedly.

Harry flinched at her comment. He was quiet for a moment.

"Harry, it's alright." She replied, brushing his hair behind his ear. "But as with everything. There just comes a point where you need to let go." She was amused at how he shivered from his touch. "You've really had no experience with women, have you?"

Harry blushed, eager to switch the subject, spitting out his next question unnaturally quickly. "What's her name?"

"My little sister?"

"Mhmm."

"Gabrielle. She's the closest person in the world to me." Fleur touching her necklace intently.

"How old is she?" Harry asked.

"She's in the same year as your sister. Fourteen this December, on Christmas Day." She said proudly, turning from Harry to look into the distance (the direction her sister was at, Harry supposed).

"Is she your only sibling?"

"She wasn't always." She said tersely. Harry sensed she wasn't keen on speaking further on that subject, and wondered what to say next. The situation felt like a minefield.

After a prolonged and silence, he finally found a question to ask,"Do you miss home?"

Fleur glanced at him with a pained smile. "Do you always ask this many questions?"

"You're...difficult to understand." He admitted. "I'm hoping I can understand you better if I know you better as well."

"People aren't puzzles to solve, Harry. Sometimes you just have to enjoy someone's company, and let them cure themselves alongside you."

"I...see." He didn't understand what she meant.

"To answer your question, I don't miss home, not at all. My identity is so defined there, and I don't enjoy that very much. But we can talk about that some other time. I have a question for you now." Fleur said, picking up her legs from the lake and crossing them like he did. "Why do you find me difficult to understand?" Her irises triangulated his eyes and lips, moving from each circle of green to his pale lips in a cycle.

"You seemed to hate me when we first met. And now you enjoy my company. People don't change that quickly, in my experience."

"The opposite of love isn't hatred, Harry, it's indifference. And I didn't hate you on the first day. You were just, what's the word, frustrating. Not saying I love you, of course. I just mean-"

"I understand, I understand." He laughed, secretly celebrating in his head (even if she didn't mean what she said, Fleur had associated him with love, that had to be good news). "Can I ask, why did you find me frustrating?"

Fleur phrased her reply carefully. "When I was researching my competition, I had read about you and I had a certain image of who you were. Your awards, achievements, exploits, came together to form a preconceived idea of who Harry was. I supposed I romanticised you, in a way." She said, as if she found the words difficult to pronounce. "But when I met you, you weren't the dashing hero that killed a basilisk. You were late."

"People are usually more complex than archetypes."

"And it is the complexity that's interesting. When we spoke properly, you took me to places I've never been to before during conversation. After living in the same place and with the same people for so many years, one tends to experience a lot of repetition. But, you're...different."

"You're looking at me like I'm a puzzle, now." Harry laughed, nervously.

"You are. I said people aren't puzzles to solve; not that they weren't puzzles." She made the subtle distinction. "What does it feel like, Harry, to be so uninhibited by the forces around you?"

"Me? Fleur, my fate is not in my hands. Maybe I look as if I were free, but I'm far from it." He mockingly laughed at himself. "Not at all." Fleur appeared puzzled at his response.

"You feel as if your environment controls you?"

"I do. Papa has so many expectations for my future. And Maman, she just follows whatever he says. The traditions in my family are so strong that I feel like I can't escape them, even though I crave desperately to, how you say, be my own person. Even if I had the courage to be late for meals, as you possess, I would be censured by my professors and punished, or considered unladylike by my peers. That was a trivial example but I'm sure you understand the spirit of what I'm saying."

"You'll get there." Harry said, confidently, attracting Fleur's almost startled attention. "Unlike me, you can be whatever you want to be, Fleur. If I seem courageous and strong to you in those moments then imitate me. The flattery will be terrible for my ego, but people have to start somewhere, don't they?" He grinned.

"What do you mean by unlike me? You've repeated that sentiment twice now." Fleur pursued. She didn't seem upset, just curious.

"It's uncomfortable for me to explain." Harry said, sadly. "Since, for now, it's only a suspicion I have."

"Explain it to me." Fleur said, sternly, before retreating from her pose. "I promise to be gentle."

"I can't. I'm sorry Fleur. I've never told anyone before, and I really don't think I'm ready for it."

Fleur pouted disappointedly. "I understand."

Harry thought about it, and decided he would share a story with her. In a way that wouldn't make him culpable. Secrets had a way of building up and destroying a person, and Harry felt compelled to tell her one of the many he had. "There was once a dark wizard," he began, and Fleur turned to face him, "he never reached France during his reign, but he had touched a lot of countries around Eastern Europe, and killed many people. Do you know of whom I speak?"

"I do. My family was never affected by him, but I have heard of the atrocities he has committed."

"He was imprisoned with no contact with the outside world for nearly fifty years, and in that time, something in him clicked, and he realised the extent of his crimes. The man understood, finally, that his ways were flawed, and what he wanted for the world was wrong. The wizard, no longer dark, with much of his power wasted away, realised that he would never be able to redeem himself, and that to be punished in the way he was, was a waste of his astounding intelligence, which could serve the real greater good in many other ways. He never asked to recover his reputation, but he hoped to change the world and the fate of the universe in a positive way. Thus, he decided to escape from his cell, and to mend his destiny. One night, after being forced to live outdoors again by his relatives, a ten-year old boy crossed paths with this wizard who was on the good path, and since then was raised by the man to be his final gift to the world. To be his finale, so that he may die in peace knowing that he wasn't completely evil, when Death came knocking."

"You're. You are. Your eccentric grandfather, he is Gellert Grindelwald?!"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that." Harry replied quickly and anxiously. He was sure that Fleur would turn away from him with disgust. He knew he should never have opened up.

"And that is why you say that your destiny is not in your control?" Fleur said, finally, after not speaking for a good five minutes.

"I am bound by something deeper than blood to a few in this world: people who have much more important roles in the years to come than I do. I am a clog, not the catalyst of fate, not the hero of a story." Harry sighed. "But I've accepted my part. It's a role I play willingly, for the people I love, and for the memory of my parents." His word came trembling out of his lips. He was sure he looked very unattractive.

But Fleur crawled over to him, and laid her soft hair on his shoulder and pressed against him. He stared out into the lake with a strange expression. He enjoyed her touch and the comfort of her body. They sat like this in silence as the minutes flew by. Harry's arm draped over her back to hold her closer to him, reaching for anything to feel anchored to this reality.

Fleur whispered into his ear, the warmth of her breath hotly against his ear "A person plays many roles in their lifetime. You aren't only a clog. You're here with me, aren't you? Destiny is being hoodwinked right now."

He had spilt his soul to her and she had responded with unquestioning tenderness. And all of a sudden, she kissed him on the cheek, before dipping her head shyly and returning to his shoulder again. Her lips felt velvety on his skin, and he could feel her touch where her kiss fell even after it had ended; it had forever implanted itself into his memory.

Harry smiled and looked at her. She was so lovely - her eyes and their blueness. He kissed her on the forehead. "Will you tell me your story as well?"

She shook her head childishly. "Patience, Harry, we have a whole year to know each other. It isn't good manners to rush someone."

She yawned smally as she finished her sentence.

Harry laughed. "You're tired. Come on, you should head to bed. I don't know what time it is, but it's definitely past your bedtime."

"Alright. Will I see you tomorrow?" She asked, rubbing her eyes like a kitten.

"Yes, I'm sure you will." He replied. They stood up and Fleur slipped on her socks and shoes, while Harry waited. The two would be heading in opposite directions; it just so happened that the lake was a halfway point. She looked into his eyes, losing herself in the green, and tiptoed to kiss him on the cheek again, the other side this time. Harry kept her in his embrace, however, and brushed her hair behind her elfin ears before staring at her lovely mouth. He could feel her chest rising and falling as she breathed heavier and deeper. Fleur closed her eyes and slightly parted her lips. With the night sky in diminuendo behind him, and the whisper of a sunrise cooing, the passage of time slowed as he pulled her face towards him and kissed her. Her magic passed her emotions (nervousness, excitement, pleasure) into him through her small lips, and they melded. In the moment he forgot his destiny and his notions, and could only know and see. Her eyes opened, and a rosiness filled her cheeks.

"Thank you for tonight."

 **AN Still looking for a beta!**


	9. Chapter 9

"Harry, are you awake?" Izzy shook him lightly, waking him up to the grey morning. "I should get back to my friends, they'll worry where I am."

"Alright, give me a second to wake up." Harry stretched and yawned.

Izzy sifted through the grassy sheets. She picked up a strand and examined it. "Did you meet Fleur after I left last night?"

"Mhmm. Do you need a brush for your hair?" He asked, pulling his wand from under his pillow and waving it carelessly to conjure a fine oak brush.

Izzy took the brush from Harry's hand and stood back up to arrange her black hair in front of the mirror. "It's always so messy when I wake up." She commented as she combed, smoothening out the curls with her hands.

"Huh? Oh yeah." Harry blinked sleepily.

"Don't fall asleep again, Harry, I swear you have the worst sleeping habits. Now, how did it go with Fleur?"

"Oh, it went well." He replied, smiling ear to ear, sitting himself up against some pillows.

"What happened? Did you kiss her?" She asked with a grin, look at his reflection on the mirror.

"Yeah. It was lovely." He said while drifting away to his memories of last night.

"That's great! Your first kiss!" She giggled.

"How would you know if that's my first kiss or not?"

"Was it your first kiss?"

"Yes…"

"There you go." She said casually, as she headed into the toilet to wash her face. "When are you seeing her again?"

"Tonight, I think."

"Be sure not to mess this up!"

"I'll try my best." Harry laughed. He wondered if he could maintain their rapport even in the daylight, when they were around people and they were vulnerable to public scrutiny. When would he see her again? Dinner or lunch? Should he go knocking on her door, or was that too keen? Suddenly, Harry remembered the Triwizard Tournament, that had to be the priority. He needed Cedric to bounce his ideas off of. The wizard decided to find Cedric to discuss the possible culprits behind Izzy's selection, and how they would proceed with uncovering the plot.

"Alright, make me invisible! Finite Incantatum will get rid of the charm, right?" Izzy asked, looking refreshed.

"Yup. Are you ready to face the world then?" Harry asked, tentatively.

Izzy drew a deep breath and nodded. "I'll have to eventually. Binding magical contract, remember? Anyway, it can't be any worse than Dementors or Baskilisks and Voldemort, right?"

"I'm sure it won't be." he replied with little confidence, "I'll chat to you soon, alright?" he hugged her tightly and kissed her on the forehead, before casting the Disillusionment Charm and watching the door being opened and closed by her now invisible presence.

Harry shut his curtains (and any of the sun from his room) then lit a few candles on his desk. He stood up and opened his notebook, which was sealed by a passcode that one had to write on the front page before its contents could be revealed. He scribbled the word and the thin black book expanded before him into a thick and large sketch book. In his fourth year, Harry had produced three copies of these books that would record and transmit information between each other, it was one of his prouder moments from his spell-weaving career. He dipped his quill into the inkpot and began to brainstorm, writing down the important questions. Who were the likely suspects? Why would they enter Izzy into a tournament like this? What was the purpose?

* * *

The sun dipped beneath the horizon and was replaced by the moon. No longer did sideway creeps of sunlight contort themselves to slip past the edges of his curtains, which made it nearly pitch black inside. Harry checked the time. He had been working for hours on uncovering who had done this, and was ready to present his findings to Cedric. There would be more investigation required, but Harry had narrowed down his suspects to three people.

He took a shower and put on his robes before heading to the Great Hall. It had been a long time since he last ate and his stomach was rumbling for attention. As he walked into the dining hall, he found Izzy quietly eating her food beside Ron, while Hermione was nowhere to be seen. She looked upset. And his eyes found Cedric who was once again sitting on the Ravenclaw table with Cho. In front of them were the same Beauxbatons girls as last time, except there were two boys vying for Fleur's attention this time (each of them drawing halves). What were their names again? Adeline, Amie, Michelle. And the boys: Roger and Michael Corner. Harry walked over and nodded at Cedric, before sitting down at the seat he saved, and whispering into his ear.

"Meet at the Room after dinner. We need to talk." Harry said.

"Harry, you're too funny, old boy." Cedric laughed loudly.

Harry smiled, mischievously. Cedric moved a plate and cutlery over to Harry's area of the table, and Harry began to collect food onto his plate. His eyes were drawn to Fleur, who was disinterestedly entertaining her two suitors, similarly unable to keep her eyes off of his.

"Hello everyone." Harry said, taking a bite out of his drumstick.

"How was your day, Harry?" Adeline asked.

"It was fine. And yours?" He chewed.

"We've explored Hogwarts today, and walked around the grounds. It was nice. Not as elegant as Beauxbatons but with its own charm." Adeline replied.

"I'm glad you like it. I'd love to visit Beauxbatons one day."

Amie interjected. "Is it true that you are allowed to visit the neighbouring town on the weekends of every fortnight?"

"Yes, it is. Hogsmeade is a lovely retreat from Hogwarts." Cho replied.

Harry overheard Roger talking to Fleur. "I'd love to take you there on our next weekend, Fleur." He said. Fleur's eyes shifted uncomfortably and landed on Harry who gave him a knowing smile. She playfully pouted at him and mouthed the words, "Are you jealous?".

"So, Harry, how does it feel to be one of the Triwizard Champions?" Michelle asked, smiling at him.

"It feels wonderful. I'm excited to win."

"Hold on. You're not going to win, Mr. Potter." Fleur said, frowning adorably and shushing Michael who was talking about something insipid.

"Here we go again…" Adeline rolled her eyes.

"What makes you think that? The headmaster said there was no task testing etiquette. And unless they have three of those then you're not going to beat me." Harry said.

"Mr. Potter, if we are to compete, how would you expect to win a task when you can't even keep your eyes off of me." Fleur said, almost whispering the words. Her eyes were unwaveringly pinned to Harry's. Everyone had turned silent. Even Michael and Roger were staring intently at the interaction.

"I can do both." He said, matching Fleur's body language, and turning his body, which was facing Cedric, towards her.

"Are you sure?" She smiled salaciously. "I've seen the way you react to my touch. You can't even shake my hand without being overwhelmed. What if we were to brush shoulders while we were competing" Fleur rotated her delicate, pale hand in the air looking at it before turning back to Harry, "Would you collapse from excitement?"

Harry eyed her up and down and sideways and then reached over the table to take her hand roughly. She giggled prettily at him.

"No collapsing so far." he whispered. Roger reacted with jealously and anger, a frown spreading across his face. Cedric laughed, and nudged Cho to make her look. Michael, ever so oblivious, was preparing to say something. The rest of the Beauxbatons girls regarded them with skeptical smiles, except for Michelle who seemed annoyed.

"You haven't answered my question."

"I suppose if that was the case then I'll have to try and separate my feelings from the task at hand."

"Would you really be able to manage that?" She said sensually, stroking Harry's palm with lingering caresses from her finger.

Harry weaved his fingers into hers, interlocking their hands, dizzy from the waves of emotion shooting from her hand, but lucid enough to realise how perfectly their hands fit together. "Maybe." He replied, smiling.

"So...what's your favorite food, Fleur?" Michael asked, interrupting them and smiling warningly at Harry. She gave Harry another pointed gaze with her beautiful eyes before answering Michael.

Cedric said loudly, and abruptly. "So, what the hell is this about, you knuckleheads?"

"Just expressing my competitiveness." Harry replied, grinning.

"Don't the two of you hate each other?" Adeline asked, with a puzzled look. Michelle looked at Harry disappointedly.

Cho nodded. "I was also under the impression you two hated each other."

Harry didn't know how to reply. He wasn't accustomed to the situation at hand.

"We...do?" Harry asked confusedly, before feeling a surge of displeasure emanate from Fleur. "I mean no. We definitely do not hate each other. We're acquaintances?"

Fleur, who was still speaking to Roger and Michael and pretending not listen, seemed to relax at his response.

"Then, why the hell are you two still holding hands?" Cedric asked.

"She has nice hands." Harry replied smoothly, caressing her soft skin.

"He wouldn't let me go." Fleur said, squeezing his hand tightly, before pulling away.

"Okay…" Cedric rolled his eyes. "Well, how were the rest of your days?" He askhed.

The dinner proceeded as usual, with Harry stuffing himself with food. "Cedric, I'll meet you at the Room in ten minutes, alright?" He said as they were leaving the Great Hall, Cedric nodded.

* * *

Cedric was lying down on a couch comfortably with his head on a pillow when Harry entered the Room of Requirement.

"Hey, took you long enough." Cedric said, sitting up.

"Yeah…how did you..." He replied, sitting down on the armchair opposite him as the fireplace roared. "Is that a charm you think? I mean, it couldn't be an actual fireplace right?" Harry moved closer to it to inhale the scent of burning wood. "It smells just like a real fire though, doesn't it?"

Cedric crossed his arms. "I'm disappointed you didn't tell me you finally kissed a girl."

"Hey! Why is everyone convinced that she's the first girl I kissed?"

"She is though…"

"And how did you know we kissed?"

"I have my sources."

"Izzy…"

"No... anyway, stop being so flirtatious in public. It's quite icky to look at." Cedric pulled a face.

"I didn't start it. What was I going to do?"

"Start by telling me how it started. It's only been three days, you dog."

Harry explained all the events of his and Fleur's time together in great detail.

"You've gone through these memories hundreds of times already, haven't you?" He poked.

"Might as well have." Harry replied.

"I'm happy for you, man. Don't bugger this up. Should we talk about Izzy now?"

"Yes, let's. What are your thoughts?" Harry asked as he passed Cedric a cigarette and they began smoking.

"We should cross out innocent action. Too dangerous to assume that, in my opinion." Cedric began as he took a toke, blowing out the grey smoke which rose up the room. "Besides, it's never served us right in the past, or been remotely accurate."

"Agreed. So that brings us down to two possibilities."

"Deliberate or forced action."

"Which both are equally dangerous because they suggest a further plot."

"What do you think about possession?"

"Possible. As we both know, it's been done before…"

"Possession, willing seventeen-year old Death Eater, or visitors."

"You're forgetting one. Mad-Eye Moody."

"I doubt it's him. He's got a reputation for putting most of the Death-Eaters in jail."

"I don't think it's him either, but we're here to list out all possible suspects. Any kind of evidence left behind?"

"None. My father added that if Mr. Crouch hadn't caught the evidence, then there was likely none left behind. He's a famous representative of the law. So many possibilities."

"Only a few people have that kind of power. No ordinary student, that is for sure, and none that I know of in our school. Here's the list I've narrowed it down to. I've sorted them out based on the possession of the ability to hoodwink the Goblet into selecting a fourth champion, which I've looked into and found to be a tremendously difficult and complicated task.

"Karkaroff is on the top of the list, huh? He won't be an easy target to take down if he turns out to be the culprit." Cedric glanced at the list again, "None of these people will be easy to take down, actually. They've all got reputations or will need to save face. If we do this legally, it'll be extremely difficult. Do you think we should involve Dumbledore or one of the professors?"

"No. When have they ever been helpful during our whole history in this school. We can handle this. I'll mail Gelly and Sirius for perspective, but we don't need the staff for this."

"Fine. It's up to you. Any thoughts on why they've entered Izzy?"

"I can only think it's to do her harm. A binding magical contract she cannot escape. That just gives them too much room to maneuver maliciously."

"Then we'll have to investigate. I'll take Durmstrang. Krum and I are already becoming fast friends."

"I'll look into Beauxbatons."

"Of course you will. You dog."

"Hey!"

"How are you holding up though? I guess we've stopped expecting quiet ever since Izzy came around, huh?"

"You're not wrong… I'm alright, I just have a bad feeling about this year. Who knows if we'll get lucky again?"

Harry scratched his chin, while Cedric smoked on his cigarette. "Harry, we need to consider the possibility that someone in Hogwarts is the culprit as well. This school has always had a dark side"

"I'll take Slytherin then and Gryffindor."

"We've never had to operate with so little to go on before. Are you sure we don't need to involve other people?"

"When we have to." Harry looked into the fire broodingly.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry started his way back to the dungeons, down the changing stairs (which, after all these years, still seemed entirely arbitrary to him). He was walking through the dark and damp hallway, his footsteps echoing down the hall, until he reached the Slytherin common room, where he saw someone knocking fervently at his door.

"Harry! You're here!" He identified the boy as Vincent Crabbe, one of Draco Malfoy's lackeys. The boy rushed over to him and spoke urgently, "Draco's in trouble again, he went looking for the Gryffindor common room and a prefect caught him. Please help!"

"Again? Are you kidding me?"

"I told him not to go but he insisted." Crabbe said sadly.

"Isn't Malfoy your friend? How could you leave him just like that." Harry glared at the boy.

Crabbe blushed and shuffled, "I came to look for help. I don't know what to do in situations like that. Will you not help him because I left?"

"No, no. Nevermind, I was being harsh," Harry sighed, "Fine, I'll head there now."

Swiftly, Harry walked to the closest shortcut that took him to the seventh floor. He didn't bother hiding himself and when he reached the end of the hallway, he saw two figures outlined in the dark, a shorter blonde boy and a tall red-head shouting at him, waving his wand (lucent at its end) threateningly in the air, their shadows erratic. His thoughts went to Fleur, her silver locks, was she waiting for him?

'Focus.', thought Harry, taking out his wand and preparing a spell, muttering an incantation under his breath.

"Waiting to ambush one of our Lions, aren't you? You spawn of the devil. I haven't caught you before but Ron has told me the rumors. And we all know about Lucius Malfoy. His blood can't be clean. No way it is. You're mine now." Percy, the head boy, grinning triumphantly, while he spat at Draco.

Draco shook his head nervously, holding a delicately wrapped present in front of him, like a buffer between him and Percy. "I'm just here to give someone something."

Percy brusquely extended his hand and glared at Draco, who, reluctantly handed him his present. Before ripping it apart with a Diffindo spell. A box of chocolates and a card fell onto the floor.

"What's this? A card? Let's see what it says."

"Wait don't read it, it's none of your business! When my father hears about this, he'll-"

But Percy had already begun reading. "To the beautiful Isabella Potter, I've long admired your raven tresses and your green eyes. Your beauty surpasses that of the loveliest flower. Though I am of a different house, I am keen to speak to you one on one. I will be waiting at 8pm in the gardens outside of the Herbology greenhouse tomorrow night. Yours, DM." Percy began to laugh manically, "You think Izzy would ever go out with the likes of you? Don't make me laugh, you absolute idiot."

Draco gritted his teeth, his jaw pulsed while a blush swept below his eyes.

"I think she'd be quite pleased, actually." Harry said as he approached, "And I think I might know a little bit more about Izzy than you do."

"Harry Potter." Percy was incited even further, his eyes transfixed on Harry while his face became grotesque in its combination of disgust and anger. "The blood traitor. I've heard the rumors about you. The only Potter to have ever been a Slytherin. Tell me, how does it feel to know you've become a part of the evil your parents tried so hard to destroy."

Harry was incensed by his comments and wanted to do nothing more than attack the redhead, fortunately his control, like vines holding back his body, kept him under wraps. With a bit of effort, he composed himself. "I know even the head boy has no right to confiscate items without probable cause. You have no authority here."

"Who said I was acting under the authority of head boy?" Percy smiled, licking his lips with his long tongue.

"Then I suggest you return the present and that lovely card. Or let me hand it to my sister."

"Incendio!" Percy shouted, turning the chocolates and the card into ash, before turning back at Draco and dropping his voice to a mere whisper. "What present?"

"Now, now. Was there really any need for that?" Harry asked, calmly. Gelly always told him to never underestimate a wild mare.

Percy laughed again. "I just like seeing that look on little Malfoy's face. Dreams crushed. All that work you must have put in, that perfect calligraphy, that flawless wrapping, that ribbon." He said as he poked Malfoy's face repeatedly, like he was playing with a dog. "You're quite adorable for a snake." Draco was breathing heavily in fear.

"What do you have against, Draco? At worse he broke curfew, which doesn't warrant anything more than a few points deducted or a detention. I was a prefect last year. I would know."

"What I have against this devil spawn is his blood. Dirty blood."

"A person isn't defined by their families." Harry spoke clearly and patiently.

"Clearly. In the rare case we have someone like you. The shame of the Potters." Percy snapped.

"Houses are ambivalent in their natures, they're only as good or bad as we make them."

Percy put a finger up to hush Harry. "Stop your philosophising. Our situation is clear. Two students, out of bed, two Slytherins, in fact. Lingering outside the Gryffindor Tower. We know what the professors will make of this. The Quaffle is in my pitch, so to speak. Maybe I let this news leak out and Draco's father finds out he has a crush on the girl who felled the Dark Lord. Or maybe, this." The redhead's face suddenly expressed sadness and he began to gesticulate animatedly, his wand still bright, shadows dancing wildly around. "Oh Professor. I was so scared! Draco was threatening to hurt me for my family fighting against Lord Voldemort! He used some dark magic and the shadows began to hold me stiff. And Harry just stood by and watched. I knew he was torn between his family and his house but he did nothing." Percy snapped his fingers.

"Our memories would suffice for evidence."

"The great Harry Potter doesn't know how to manipulate memories? I think not."

Harry glared at Percy. "What would you have us do, then? We concede."

"5000 galleons. And, hmm, how about the both of you drop onto your knees and lick my feet?" He said.

Harry couldn't hold himself back any longer and bursted out laughing. "That's the best you can think of?" He took his hand from behind his back, which was still holding his wand (its tip filled with a blue light) and waved it. The light turned into small flask filled with a transparent liquid substance.

"What is that?" Percy asked, his eyes glinting with fear. "What is it!"

"Just a little spell I invented with Professor Dumbledore. A spell which records everything my wand hears, impossible to tamper with."

"You son of a bitch!" Percy swiped at the glass, pouncing at Harry, who dodged the attack effortlessly, vanishing the object.

"Draco, I remember you being knowledgeable about these matters. Remind me again what the penalty for blackmail is." He asked, playfully.

"I think it's three years in Azkaban." Draco said excitedly.

"That's impossible, no spell like that exists." Percy snarked.

Harry voice dripped with overflowing conviction. "Then why don't you bet your life on it?"

Percy, seeing Harry's expression, and, knowing of his reputation, began to believe him.

Harry saw the fear in Percy's eyes and pressed his advantage. "Oh, three years with the Dementors. Well that's not too long of a time, is it? It could be worse. " Harry mockingly sighed. "You may still have a chance at a good life afterwards. But, what a shame, everything you've worked for." Harry smiled delightfully at Percy, who was sweating profusely.

"Please don't. Please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'll do anything. Anything!" Percy knelt on the floor and started to paw at Harry's legs. This was his fault for trying to bargain with so little leverage.

"It's not me you have to apologise to. Go over to Draco and beg for his forgiveness."

Percy crawled like an animal over to Draco and began hugging his legs, grovelling. "Master Draco. Let me go, please. I'm so sorry for what I did. It was a joke. That's it! It was a joke!" He began forcing a laugh that sounded terrible in its urgency.

"Get off me, you filthy blood-traitor." Draco kicked Percy away, before spitting on him. Percy clamored backwards.

"Draco, language. I just saved your sorry hide. Shut your goddamn mouth for one second." He warned.

Draco nodded nervously, before standing upright again, this time with his hands behind his back, like a soldier in front of his commanding officer.

"Mr. Weasley. This," he shook the flash lightly, "will never reach the light of day. So long as you follow my words very carefully, understood?"

Percy nodded. His four limbs still on the floor, his head turned to face Harry.

"Now stand up," Harry said, "You will speak of this event to no one. If I catch even one word that you've told anyone about this, and I'm including the knowledge of Draco's affections for my dear sister, then you can watch your future be destroyed. Understand?"

Percy nodded desperately. "Anything you want."

"Do not forget this mercy, Percy Weasley."

* * *

As Harry and Draco made their way back to the Slytherin Common Room, Harry wondered if he was a bit dramatic. Then again, one does not make a strong impression without theatrics.

"Potter. Thank you." Draco said, as they headed back down to their common room, "If my father had gotten ahold of this, he would have punished me."

"For fraternizing with enemy?"

"Yes. I don't know what he would have done."

"Your crush on Izzy is the only thing that makes me help you. You realise this, right? You're a xenophobic little shit." Harry said.

"I don't know. I don't understand these things. From the first moment I met her. I just, I just fell in love. But what good is that. She's never given me the time of day."

Harry stopped walking to wait for the stairs to change. "And you're surprised by this? You're constantly bullying her friends. She takes loyalty very seriously."

"I'm just trying to get her attention. Besides, it's not my fault her friends are blood-traitors and mudbloods."

Harry sighed as they continued walking down the steps. "What is with you pure-blooded families? I'll never understand why you hate muggleborns. And what the hell is a blood-traitor? Even if you do support the Dark Lord, why the hell would you advertise it like that."

"I just hate those types of people. I can't explain it. Someone like you wouldn't understand."

"We'll have to talk about this one day. But not tonight."

They walked apart while Harry led the way with a Lumos spell.

"I didn't know you worked to create spells with the Headmaster." Draco said with a hint of admiration.

"I don't." Harry replied, curtly.

"Wait, so that whole thing was a ruse?"

"Yes."

Draco's eyes widened in surprise. He had just gained a whole new level of respect for Harry, "No wonder you're in Slytherin."

"Wolfsbane." Harry said to the portrait. "Before we go inside, Draco, I want you to think very carefully about my words. They may hold the secret to solving your dissonance. What is a muggleborn? What is a pure-blood, a half-blood? What is a blood-traitor (which Percy had just called you, and you had just called him)? Do you think you embody the qualities of the snake more than I do? The first Slytherin of my name and a half-blood. Question your beliefs, Draco. You love someone that is muggleborn in everything but my father's blood. Can that love really exist for something wrong? For something bad? You're smarter than what you've been taught. I expect better for someone that intends to court my sister. And she will expect more too. Good night, Draco."

Draco nodded in embarrassment.

"And don't forget. You owe me."

Draco headed for his dormitory, his mind racing with polarising ideas.

Harry had one more stop tonight, and he headed for Fleur. He was already late.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N Will start to slow down my output soon, only have around 15000 words written up so far.**

"I thought you wouldn't show up."

"I lost track of time." Harry said apologetically.

Once again, Fleur was dipping her pale feet into the lake, her trousers rolled up. The moon beams caressed her face, giving her a nearly magical sheen. Harry sat down cross legged next to her. He was unsure if she wanted the same physical contact as last night, and so he kept to himself.

"Were you with another girl?" She asked, giving him a burning look as she picked her feet out of the water and moved into his embrace, ridding him of all his doubts.

"A boy needed my help." Harry said, stroking her soft hair with his hand.

She mewed and shut her eyes. "That feels nice. What happened with this boy?"

"He was being threatened by a student from a different house." Harry proceeded to tell the rest of the story to her, she listened intently, giggling at the part where Harry had tricked Percy into believing his obvious lie.

"I suppose he didn't think of the possibility of Veritaserum." Harry reflected.

"He probably didn't think the case would go that for. Sometimes reputation is all you need to hurt someone. The law can stay entirely out of it." Fleur mused.

"How was your day then?"

"Dinner was exciting. Teasing you in front of everybody. You performed admirably for such an inexperienced boy." Fleur laughed mellifluously.

Harry leaned in and kissed her soft lips. "I try my best." Harry paused for a second before deciding to ask the question that was on his mind. "Fleur?"

"Mhmm?"

"How well do you know the students that have come to Hogwarts with you?"

"Quite well, most of them are in my year."

"Can you account for their movements on the night of October 30th?"

"Is this some kind of investigation?" Fleur laughed.

"Yes." Harry said without humor.

"Let me think. All twelve of us entered one by one, under Madame Maximme's supervision." Fleur said, reflectively, biting her thumb.

"Still a large window. Does anyone harbor pro-Voldemort beliefs?"

"None. They're all decent people. Aren't you being a little paranoid?" Fleur asked.

Harry shook his head. "There's no such thing as being too paranoid."

All of a sudden, Fleur pushed herself off of Harry. "You need to relax, Harry Potter. I'll find out what I can for you. Kiss me."

* * *

Izzy Potter pushed the door lightly, trying her best to make as little noise as possible. The door always creaked no matter what. She was at the Owlery sending letters to Sirius and Gelly. They were so far away. Since she had arrived at Hogwarts every year was the same, dangerous, strange. And now this. A window opened to the night sky. Their room was always immaculate. Hermione insisted on cleaning even Izzy's side of the room, which she found frustrating until one Christmas when Hermione went back to visit her parents and Izzy realised how much of a slob she was.

An light was still on from her roommate's bedside table. Hermione often fell asleep while reading though, leaving it to her to switch off the lamp. As she stepped into the room, she heard Hermione smack her lips.

"Sorry Hermione, did I wake you?" Izzy asked.

Hermione rubbed her eyes. "It's alright, I was only half asleep anyway. Are you feeling any better today?" She said with a yawn.

Izzy sat at the end of Hermione's bed. "I think so."

"You've faced worse trials before, we can definitely manage this one. As long as we prepare for the tasks you'll done fine," Hermione took out a stack of papers and started to flip through them. "I've been in the library today doing research and I think I can guess within a relatively small margin of error what the trials are going to be, or at least what kind of magic and skills they'll test you on. If we combine a lot of preparation with Harry's help I'm sure you'll be fine. Who knows, you might even win!"

"Hermione, I'm not worried about that." Izzy said, sullenly.

"You're not?"

"I'm worried that Harry is upset at me."

"Why would you think he's upset at you?"

"I don't know. He was acting kind of strangely. Like he was acting two years ago, when the Chamber of Secrets was opened."

Hermione's eyes darted away from hers. Izzy knew this expression. It was the same one Hermione wore every time she brought up the Chamber, when Colin Creevey had died and the whole school accused Harry of being Slytherin's heir.

"Hermione? What aren't you telling me?"

"Nothing." She stammered.

Hermione never revealed anything in the two years since, no matter how many times she asked. "I'm so sick and tired of all of you keeping this from me. What is so horrible that you can't tell me? Don't you think you owe it to me as a friend to involve me in something concerning the only family I have left?"

She blushed and stared at the floor.

"Hermione. Look at me."

Tears began to well in Hermione's eyes, precariously dangling from her eyelids. "I would tell you, but there are things that are better unheard. It's for Harry to say, not me. I'm so sorry, Izzy."

"Forget it. I'm sorry." Izzy sat next to Hermione and the two sat beside each other in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes, before Izzy decided that she wanted to make things right. She snaked her hand around Hermione's shoulders and hugged her. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." Hermione made an attempt to change the conversation, speaking through her minute sniffles. "Why do you feel like Harry's upset at you?"

"I think he's disappointed in me or something." Izzy hugged her knees.

"He'd never be disappointed in you. You know how much Harry loves you. He would do anything for your safety."

"You don't understand the look he gets in his eyes. When I walked into the Champion's Room, I could see his reaction. It was like he was saying: are you kidding me? Again? I don't want his help anymore. I hate how I keep getting in the way of his life. This was supposed to be his big thing before he leaves Hogwarts and I stole all the attention away again.

"Harry doesn't care about that!" Hermione exclaimed. "Well, he might have, but he definitely doesn't anymore." She muttered.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." That look again.

"You're no help at all." She complained, pulling at one the arms of Hermione's teddy bears.

Hermione looked disappointed in herself. "It's difficult for me to be objective about the relationship between the two of you. I mean." She blushed, "You know how I feel about Harry."

"Does it bother you that he might have feelings for Fleur?" Izzy asked.

"Of course it does. I never thought he would find someone. He's usually so…"

"Detached?"

"That's the word. It's just a crush, though. So don't worry about me. I'll live." Hermione smiled bravely.

Izzy looked at Hermione fondly. She was brave and so strong. She wished Harry would notice her sometimes. Ever since Hermione had stumbled out of her awkward adolescence she had remerged as a darling. Her hair was less temperamental and had settled into a manageable array of curls, whose tresses, kept quite clean, shone under the sun. She remember seeing Hermione for the first time this year, and how beautiful she looked. Harry should consider dating her. Maybe she should ask him how his thing with Fleur is going, and sabotage that,

* * *

The next day came and the sunlight made Izzy feel better. She ate breakfast with Ron and Hermione. Not many people were awake yet, since it was a Saturday. Breakfast was her favorite meal. She stuffed herself with bacon and eggs and beans while drink litres of tea.

"You have too much caffeine, Izzy, this is why you're always so hyperactive!" Hermione lectured.

"What's caffeine?" Ron asked.

"It's a chemical that's in substances like tea or coffee. It's what makes you feel awake after you drink them."

"What's a chemical?" Ron asked again.

"You're hopeless, Ronald."

Izzy ignored their morning chatter and began to start on another piece of toast. She glanced over at the Ravenclaw table and saw Fleur sitting with her friends, looking at her, deep in thought.

"She's beautiful." Ronald whispered longingly.

"Stop staring, Ron. You're making this so awkward." Izzy complained. The last thing she wanted was for her brother's new girlfriend to find her and her friends weird. Izzy looked away and wondered what she should do today. Review the charts that Hermione made for her and figure out what areas she needed to work on. Maybe go flying at night before she went to sleep.

"Sorry." Ron muttered, blushing.

"The post is here, everyone!" Hermione said, as she watched the owls flying in through the gap in the window, their feathers fluttering in the air as they dived and dropped the morning mail onto the tables.

Izzy paused her eating to open her mail. Two letters and a box.

 _"Dearest Isabella,_

 _I was most upset to hear about you being selected. An age line drawn by Albus is not something an ordinary wizard can bypass. There is trouble afoot. Be very wary. You know the about the dangers of Hogwarts Castle during the cold nights. Never go anywhere alone. If you must leave your room past curfew, make sure to bring your friend, Hermione. Leave the fool, Bilius, behind, preferably as soon as possible._

 _Work on your repertoire of spells. Below, I've attached a list of books you will find useful. Work hard and you will make it through this without danger. If you need any more advice, do not be afraid to ask._

 _Love,_

 _Gelly"_

A short note. A list of books were attached underneath the letter including an anthology of magical creatures, a book of magical encounters, a few spell books, and two potion brewing books. There were descriptions next to each of the titles. Gelly wanted her to expand her knowledge of monsters and their weaknesses, study up on potions that would help her in times of trouble, learn more spells so that she had more versatility and to read about historical chronicles of powerful witches and wizards that triumphed over overwhelmingly low odds. She felt better knowing her direction now.

 _"Dear Izzy,_

 _This is absolutely outrageous. I cannot believe Dumbledore would let this happen. Watch out for Mr. Crouch. Watch out for everybody. You'd never be able to tell if someone is under the Imperius curse. Stay close with Harry. I'll come visit the two of you as soon as I am able, before the First Task, without a doubt. I need Harry's treatment, anyway. Don't worry too much about him. He's probably just worried about you. Your brother resembles your mother in many ways, especially in how much he obsesses and loves his family. Trust him._

 _Open the present tonight, not in front of everybody. I think you'll want to be alone with it."_

 _Love,_

 _Sirius."_

"Is that a letter from Sirius?" asked Hermione.

"Yup, just some words of love and some ranting. I'll be back."

Izzy went to the girl's lavatory holding the package and opened it. It was a picture album from when Harry and her were kids. She looked at the photos and teared up when she saw the handwriting dating each of the pictures, they were each signed, "Lilly Potter".


	12. Chapter 12

"Have you seen enough yet?" Harry grumbled. He was completely undressed, striking poses and dancing for her. It was uncomfortable but it had to be done. There wasn't much that could make a ghost lend you assistance. They hadn't much concern for human affairs.

"Wiggle it for me." The spectacled ghost said. And Harry complied.

"That was at least ten minutes." Harry began putting his clothes back on. "So?"

"Well, Harry, that was quite the show. You have a lovely body." She giggled flirtatiously.

Harry nodded. "Thank you."

"None of the ghosts I had asked saw any teachers or adults pass around that area at night, the usual students and creatures up their mischiefs but no one else." Myrtle said.

The ghosts were terribly apathetic, but to his knowledge they had a soft spot for Myrtle, who had died so young in their Hogwarts home. If what Myrtle said was true, then either the culprit was at least seventeen or transformed. Disillusion charms wore off at the age-line. And to Harry's knowledge, no one else owned an Invisibility Cloak. According to Cedric, who was knowledgeable about enchanted objects, it was possible to fool the Goblet into thinking there were more than three schools that entered, since the Triwizard Tournament used to host a dozen schools every year, and the relic was difficult to alter. It was why they made you write your school name in exactly same way underneath your name. How could he further isolate the list? Harry walked out of the toilet frustrated.

The next item on his list were the Slytherins. A relationship between him and the snakes had never really existed. Harry was well known to be dangerous, and, ever since he opened the Chamber of Secrets, his reputation had only been cemented, with most of the Slytherins acknowledging that he was the true heir of Slytherin, although they would never openly admit it. He owed a debt to many of the Slytherins who, despite their weak bonds, never gave him up or offered any useful information to the investigating Aurors. They respected his money as well, as the last surviving members of the Potters, Harry had an incredible fortune waiting for him whenever he needed it. He decided to send a letter to Gringotts as well to assess his assets. The money would come in useful.

In practical terms, however, he didn't have much sway over the relatives of the Death Eaters. They were wary of him, and kept their distance, but wouldn't be easily intimidated. Except for...Malfoy. Harry decided to send him a letter to request a meeting. His motives were in line with Harry's. He was sure Draco wanted to protect Izzy as well.

Harry took out the Marauder's Map. There were the usual prefects around, Filch patrolling. No mischief tonight, apparently. Fleur was up, she was in the Owlery. He wondered if she go and greet her, but decided against it. He was about to put away the map before seeing three students together, heading up the stairs. Mischief. Was it directed at Fleur? Justin Finch-Fletchley; Eric Chan; and Jonathan Wright. Hufflepuffs. Where were they headed? They had just exited the Hufflepuff Common Room. There was no doubt. What if they were after Fleur?

* * *

Fleur was in the Owlery, looking at the sky through the open roof. She was wearing a white dress and a cardigan over her arms, which she hugged tightly while the cold nipped at her skin. The moon was especially bright tonight. It was a romantic scene, as if God had brushes paint the air in precise and blue strokes - wisps of white lines rubbing over the navy. Thinking of beauty, her thoughts went to France and she saw fragments of her time there, the busy streets of Paris, the diamond dew glittering on the asphalt after the rain. She thought about how different things were compared to her home, which was embedded with culture, a narrative that exuded from every cigarette, every dress and tie, every building. Here, there was only the school, a rather lonely arrangement. But both were unappealing to her. Fleur dreamed of becoming a part of the story itself, of involving herself in the spinning of the web.

There were feathers scattered all over the floor, maroon, white, black, a colorful panoply. The owls stared at her as she attached a letter to one of the school owls. She was sending a letter to her family and Gabrielle about the going ons of Hogwarts. Beyond the lake, where she had experienced such a gorgeous memory with Harry, were the Forbidden Forests, their branches, bowers, veinlike shades over the twinkling waters. It would be interesting to explore it, perhaps Harry would accompany her.

She liked him very much. A muttering excitement had been brimming in her chest ever since she met him. When she walked with her friends to her various classes her eyes would scan the hallways to find him. For the most part dinner time was an exercise in patience as she awaited to always late Harry to stumble absentmindedly to their table.

She chewed on her thumb as she worried about what their time together meant. Was she important to him? Would it be over when the Triwizard Tournament finished? A wind gale swept past her, curling her silver hair. As she rearranged it, smoothing it, she wondered if this was what poets called love, or if it was merely infatuation. Was this what people felt around her allure?

Papa would like Harry, she thought, but Maman was a different matter.

It was going to be difficult to compete with him during the competition, but she knew he wouldn't respect her if she didn't try her best. The training with Madame Maxime today was tough and her muscles felt exhausted, but after a warm bath she had felt better, and a sudden longing for her family. It was strange, she felt like she was being drawn home by some uncanny pull. Hogwarts was very new and she didn't know many people here. The moon kept glaring at her, it felt ominous, just then a massive eagle flew into the owlery, disturbing the respite of the owls who began hooting at it aggressively. Fleur jumped back in fear and drew her wand, readying herself for a fight, before the eagle began growing in size, its feathers disappearing.

"Harry? What are you doing here?" She asked, softly, still incredibly surprised. He was an animagus? Of course he was. But how did he know she was here? And why was he here?

"Fleur we need to get out of here now!" He said with urgency.

Was there danger about? She nodded at him.

"I'm going to cast a disillusionment charm on you, and a weightlessness charm." He whispered with his usual ennunciation, as he pulled out a map from his robes. "Goddamnit, they're almost here." Harry looked around and pulled off one of empty poles from the owl stands. "Fleur, grab onto this, we're flying out of here."

"When we get down, you have a lot of explaining to do." She frowned, grabbing onto the pole. Fleur wanted to panic but she knew she couldn't waste time doing that. Harry wouldn't be here if there wasn't danger.

"Hold it up, keep your hands shoulder width, I'll cast the charms." Harry took out his wand and flicked it in an elaborate flourish, before transforming back to an eagle, beating his wings powerfully until he was hovering in the air, blowing the feathers on the ground all around while the owls hooted shrilly at him.

Fleur could feel all the heaviness of her body vanish. She could no longer see her arms and legs and was invisible, only the pole above her. Harry grabbed onto the pole with his talons to lift her up and out of the roof.

As they soared into the sky, she could feel her breath quicken as she felt her stomach push up against her chest. Her arms felt no strain as she held on to the pole, however. Fleur's entire body felt light. Looking back she saw three boys wearing identical masks and green robes entered the owlery, their wands drawn. They swore in anger, she could hear them scrambling about, grunting and whispering at each other, looking around the Owlery frantically.

"Who are those people?" She breathed a sigh of relief. What were they planning to do to her?

They flew down until at the tip of the Forbidden Forest just beside the Beauxbatons carriage, during which Harry dropped her in the clearing (she landed gracefully) and transformed back into his human form. He laid down on the grass, panting. Had he just saved her from something terrible?

"You're an animagus? Who were those boys? What did they want?" She asked worriedly. But Harry did not reply.

"Harry?"

"What were you doing up there alone." He asked, standing himself up and glaring at her. She had never seen him like this before, his features darkened and he didn't blink at all. His body was tense, with nothing familiar about his movements.

"I was sending letters to my family."

"You're joking."

"What do you mean I'm joking? I don't appreciate the way you are speaking to me, Harry."

Without a sound, he suddenly grabbed her by the shoulders and whispered. "I don't care how you feel about the way I am talking to you. It's dangerous in Hogwarts at night. You can't go wandering around alone. At least use a Disillusionment charm. Didn't your headmistress warn you? Who knows what those students wanted to do with you!"

"Get your hands off of me." Fleur said as she shook him off of her. She had assumed her headmistress was only exaggerating, and felt pangs of guilt as she regretted her actions."If you're going to be rude then I prefer you don't speak at all."

"Rude? I'm trying to help you!" Harry said in frustration. "I don't have the ability to take care of another person."

So he saw her as a nuisance. That was fantastic. Of course he did. "I don't need anyone taking care of me. I'm a Triwizard Champion as well, in case you didn't notice. I thought you considered me your equal, as someone you respected. If that isn't the case, I don't see why we should continue meeting each other any longer. Goodnight Mr. Potter." Fleur said coldly as she stormed off.

"Wait, Fleur, I'm sorry. I was just worried. I don't want any harm to come to you."

She stopped moving and stood there. "Duel me, right now."

"What?"

"I said duel me."

"No. You'll get hurt."

"You need to see for yourself that I'm not just some girl that needs protection."

"It's not about you being a girl. Three vs one are unfavorable odds for even the most powerful wizards."

"Then you need to respect me enough to realise I know what I'm doing. The only way that is going to happen is if we duel each other." She said as she took off her cardigan, revealing her slender arms.

"Fine."

They bowed at each other and assumed their stances.

* * *

Fleur cast a curse with a flick of her wand as soon as they bowed, following it up with spell after spell. Harry however, had trained with Snape and did not need much effort to deflect the curses and hexes. The two circled each other like two animals ready to pounce. The moon shuttling added a frenzy to their dance in the little clearing. Harry kept his shield up and waited for his opportunity to retaliate but Fleur was much too quick, with each attempt at a spell, Fleur would cast a stinging hex to cancel his wand movement and force him to defend. Finally, Harry found an opening and hit her was a Stinging Hex, lowering the magical force on his hit so that he wouldn't harm her. But she had stopped moving and collapsed onto the floor. Harry ran over to check on her but as he did she shouted, "Expelliarmus!" and disarmed him.

Harry laid beaten, sitting on the floor. "I...lost." He said.

"I pulled a cheap ploy.." Fleur said.

Harry shook his head. "You predicted what I would do, that wasn't cheap at all. I'm sorry for not trusting you and being an asshole. You saw that I could see past your larger feints, so you made a subtle one. You could tell my reflexes are faster than my body. It wasn't a cheap ploy. All's fair in love and war, and even more fair when it's both."

"Are you saying that you love me, Mr. Potter?" She smiled. Harry's expression was adorable, a smile was more than enough to stun him, she loved the control she had over him.

His pale face turned entirely red as he looked away. Not many men could put down their pride to admit they were wrong. It was true that Harry was faster than her and had more potent magic, but he fell for her feints. When her spells were not enough to penetrate his defense, she knew that as soon as she feigned being hurt, he would rush to her aid. He would be a difficult opponent during the Triwizard Tournament, she thought to herself. Harry's reflexes were impossibly fast. She had never seen anyone that could react that quickly in her life. But, to Fleur, he never seemed more wonderful than in that moment of vulnerability, this was an entirely different side to him, one he never showed anybody, one where he lacked control. She ambled along the grass to where he was sitting and placed her head on his shoulder.

"I accept your apology." She said, hushing in his ear, his body shivering in response.

Harry turned red again, and shifted his legs uncomfortably, adjusting his robes. "I'm glad." He choked.

"I'll be more careful from now, alright?" Fleur's caressed his face as she kissed him on his neck, letting her lips linger on his skin, pulling up his shirt and snaking her hands up and down his back scratching him with her extensive fingers which seemed to stretch for miles.

"I was overreacting as well. You did save me. I don't think I've thanked you yet." She said as she then straddled him and grabbed his hair roughly, pulling on it and sending a wave of pleasure over his scalp. Then, she kissed his lips; the final nail in the coffin, his senses wild now in confusion, he could no longer hold himself back. The moonlight was shining just enough so that they see each others faces.

"We can practice duelling tomorrow. For now, just forget, my hero."


	13. Chapter 13

**AN To the flamer: This story isn't about fighting, it's a story about characters. When a character overreacts, underreacts, decides to think a certain thought, it is for a purpose (to help develop them as characters), not because I'm trying to make something cliche. I'm hoping the readers will read between the lines to see how flawed each character is: including Harry, including Fleur.**

 **Even cliches serve purposes sometimes, read some Homer or Shakespeare if you think I'm wrong. And, finally, fuck off. If you have some constructive thing to say, say it, if you're just an idiot trying to sound smart keep your mouth shut.**

Dusk had just begun to caw when they had finished. Under the pasty sunlight, Harry walked tiredly towards his room, hardly noticing the thin orange glint buried in the horizon. He was defeated. Losing the duel shocked him. He was to challenge Death Eaters soon, and was in no way prepared for the trials that laid ahead, if even a student could defeat him in a duel.

He was deep in contemplation during the walk back to his room. As soon as he reached his room, he lit a candle, striking a match with practiced ease, and wrote down all his observations from the fight before. He held his quilt and scratched his thoughts on to the scroll as quickly as he could. Harry massaged his chin while playing through the fight in his head.

In the following days, Harry barely left his room, except when his hunger was so great that he wasn't able to learn. When he wasn't researching, he would leave his room to head to the Room of Requirement where he practiced his movements for hours, trying to perfect his casting and movements. He tried his best to maintain a balance, but his mind was unchained and he could focus on nothing and imagine nothing but the splutters of his defeat. He wanted to see Fleur, but hadn't for days. He felt as though he couldn't face her unless he became a more skillful fighter. On the one hand he now possessed a pure admiration for the girl he was courting, but, on the other, he felt humiliated, jealous of her skills and threatened. He tried whatever he could to suppress his thoughts, which, for him, meant ignoring Fleur for as long as possible. Harry dove into his books, studying for both the first task and to become a better fighter. He had to be prepared.

After dinner one night, Cedric came up to visit him in the Room of Requirement.

"Thought you might be here." Cedric said.

Harry was sitting on the carpeted floor, a circle of papers spread around him, while a candle floated in the air casting a large shadow on his right that dangled with every wiggle of the flame. The room was dimly lit, except for the area where Harry was sitting. Without turning around to face him, Harry waved his hand nonchalantly at Cedric, who was pulling up a chair to sit down next to him.

"What are you reading about?" Cedric asked.

"Conjuring. I'm trying to see if I can conjure mythological animals and imbue them with different properties."

"What do you mean?"

"Like a ice breathing phoenix."

"And how is it going?"

Harry shut the book he was reading and turned to face Cedric. "Not very well. What's up?"

"You should try and socialise more often. You've been too much of a shut in. Izzy is quite worried. Oh and Fleur has asked about you like three times."

"Has she?" The first task was in two days, he would have thought Fleur would be distracted by her preparations.

"Yeah, of course she has. Pay her more attention or those other guys will steal her away. You know the first task is going to involve dragons, right?"

"I do. I saw them when I was flying the other day."

Cedric's countenance was twitching with worry. "Are you ready?"

"Definitely, there aren't many dragons left, I've got a few tricks up my sleeves." Harry smirked and tapped his book with his wand."

"If you need any help don't be afraid to ask. I just came here to update you about the search."

"What's new?"

"I doubt it's Durmstrang. I've asked the Hufflepuff ghost as well, and she confirmed that only students had entered, and the Durmstrang students put their name in the Goblet of Fire with Karkaroff's supervision."

"Karkaroff was a Death eater. Durmstrang still seems suspicious."

"From how Krum describes it, and I trust him, it's not entirely bad. I guess this narrows down the possible culprits to students."

"Unless. Someone transfigured themselves. All seventh years are learning the Polyjuice potion as well, they could very well have used that."

"Snape keeps his stores under close supervision."

"They could have ordered it from outside of school. We should investigate nearby apothecaries. Send out messages inquiring about the ingredients. Most would not sell them without the proper credentials. In the meantime we should also watch out for anyone who needs to constantly drink some kind of liquid."

"I'm sure the suspect would be clever enough to hide that."

"Then how about we watch for people who excuse themselves every three hours. That's how long the potion lasts until you need a refill."

"We can't keep the whole school under observation."

"Just keep an eye out for it. Might turn out some good results. We're still flying blind here. As far as I can tell there are two possibilities, either a student means to do harm, or it's one of the staff."

"At least we're further than where we started."

"Still not very far."

"Patience. The first task hasn't started yet."

"If Izzy is in danger, I won't hesitate to ruin the competition."

"Of course."

* * *

"Enough, Potter," Snape said while heaving, "You've learnt everything I can teach you. Now all you can do is practice. Remember your strengths and your weaknesses and never be afraid to cast darker magic against a powerful foe. If nothing else, remember that ruthlessness is the key.

Harry bowed humbly. "Thank you, Professor, I couldn't have come this far without you."

"I'm assuming you increased our sessions for preparation for the Tri-Wizard Tournament, are you ready for the challenges ahead?" Snape asked, brushing off his robes and sitting behind his desk.

Harry didn't mention that it was Fleur who drove him to practice more. "Yes, sir. It was. My approach will win me the first task, of that I have no doubt.:

"I hope so as well. I hope you can teach your little pest of a sister a lesson."

Harry remained silent, in slight irritation over the name calling that Snape so often employed on his sister.

"Well? What are you still doing here? Get practicing!" Snape baked.

* * *

"What will you do if you don't have the right name?" Cedric asked.

"I have the right name." Harry said, annoyed.

The two wizards walked hurriedly down to the pitch where the tournament was being held. Harry spent the night preparing for the task and didn't sleep for a minute. The skin around his eyes were dark and there were crooked red lines around his green irises, burst blood vessels from his hours of reading through his books. The horizon was bright and filled with a startling blue, with not a cloud in sight. It was a good day, Harry decided.

"You don't have a backup plan." Cedric grumbled.

Harry swallowed and took a protracted inhale, exhaling after counting to three. It was habit whenever he had to calm his nerves. Even for him, the prospect of facing a dragon was daunting. "I'll improvise."

Cedric gave Harry a hug and went off to join Cho and the Ravenclaws. "Good luck, Harry."

He nodded at Cedric before entering the tent to join the other champions. Fleur gave him a steely look. For good reason. He hadn't seen her for a week and ignored all her messages to meet him. Izzy smiled at him and stood up from her chair.

"Are you ready, Izzy?" He asked, compressing her small frame with a big hug.

"You're strangling me! Yes, I'm ready, me and Hermione have been practicing all week."

He whispered in her ear. "We should have prepared together, but don't worry, if there's some kind of mischief directed at you, I'll handle it."

"I'll be fine on my own." She snapped, before looking guilty and blinking her large round eyes apologetically at him. "Sorry, nerves I guess. I saw Sirius just now, he wished me luck and said to send you his love."

Harry laughed bitterly. His godfather was here for him, now? Of all times? Only here for the good. "I don't need his blessings. I never did."

Izzy pouted. "Don't be like that." She complained, before she tiptoed and whispered into Harry's ear. "Why's Fleur giving you the stink-eye?"

Harry shook his head and grabbed her shoulders with both hands assertively. "That's a problem for later. Focus on the task for now, alright? Your plan is a fine one. You shouldn't run into any hitches."

Izzy smiled and nodded. "It's just like a Quidditch match. I know I'll be alright."

He was very proud of her. Harry turned to look at Fleur giving her a small smile, but she turned away from him. He really upset her this time. How would he make up for it?

The atmosphere was tense in the Champions Tent. Mr. Crouch walked in with Dumbledore and explained the task ahead, but it was no question that all the participants had already known what they were about to face, all of them looked distracted and bored. Ludo Bagman creeped excitedly towards the line of champions.

"How about letting our youngest champion pick first?" He asked a little too quickly.

Bagman triggered a sense of paranoia in Harry, who coughed and declared loudly. "I believe the order is supposed to parallel the order in which the champions were selected."

"No harm in letting your sister pick first, is there, Mr. Potter." Bagman winced and sounded irked.

"We should follow the rules. As a ministry official you should know better, Mr. Bagman." Harry replied in a grave voice, his tired eyes and ruffled hair giving him a dangerous edge.

"Fine, if you insist. Very well, it is your pick, Mr. Potter."

Harry reached inside and instantly felt his hand drawn to a dragon, like a magnet pulling him to one of the figurines. Was Bagman part of the plot, his irises looked to be dilated. It was a possible symptom of the Imperius curse. If he was complicit, then Harry had just successfully foiled him.

While his mind worked on observing and dissecting Bagman's demeanor, he blinked twice to look around at the champions only to notice the nervous looks on everyone's faces, including Fleur, who had until then only scowled at him.

Harry looked down at the dragon in his hands. The Hungarian Horntail. It was almost as if fate had chosen and would always choose this foe for him. In every iteration of this story.

"The Hungarian Horntail." Bagman muttered, looking not the least surprised.

"Perfect." Harry smirked, reaching for his light brown wand and brandishing it. He flourished it in the air confidently, stretching his muscles, then he went to the corner of the tent, dragging a chair there noisily and sitting on it, his elbows perched on his thighs. Inside, Harry was filled with excitement. He had found answers for two of his anxieties: about who put Izzy in the tournament, and whether or not his plan would work.

Sirius Black had travelled the Hogwarts to watch his godchildren perform, along with acting as added insurance in case anyone tried anything on Izzy. He sat next to Ron and Hermione, his hair cut short and his beard all but gone (just a strip of a goatee left behind). Harry would be fine, he told himself. His hand kept tapping where his wand was holstered, ready for action. Afterall, it was Harry that put his ravings in his Azkaban cell into sense (Azkaban, oh the horror) and figured out that he was chasing Pettegrew. The boy was unnaturally intelligent and observant, but there was a side to him that Sirius was frightened of. When he had casted Avada Kedavra on Peter, even Sirius had felt a quiver in his stomach. The cold look on his face, the utter lack of expression, the blankness. It was frightening. He could only hear the spell, having been sent out of the room.

"I need to do this myself, Sirius." He said urging him to leave.

A curse muttered, and a thump on the floor later, Harry stepped slowly outside and looked at him for a moment and then walked out of the passage of the whomping willow. "It's done." He whispered while he walked away.

The boy worried him. Fear and resentment were so powerful inside of him. He couldn't let Harry keep walking down this path, or he might face horrors in his future. Would Lily and James approve? Sirius wondered, sucking his lips.

"Sirius, what do you think Harry will do?" Hermione asked, playing with her fingers, straining her neck and looking over anxiously at the Champion's Tent every few seconds.

Sirius put on his most reassuring smile and patted her on the shoulder. "Something extraordinary I'm sure."

"And our first competitor exits the champion's tent." Lee Jordan shouted.

"Here they go. Let's watch." Sirius said.

Harry walked out into terrain, his upper body relaxed but his legs tensed. Sirius thought he never looked more natural, with his hand wrapped around his wand in a stiff grip. The Hungarian Horntail caught his attention immediately, the colossal creature charged towards him, his neck extending viciously while it roared deafening tones, a breath of fire rushing out of its mouth. Harry moved as the fire left the dragon's mouth, faster than Sirius ever could have. The crowd gasped as Harry dove out of the way gracefully, sprinting as the fire continued to blow out.

"Go Harry!" People shouted from the stands.

Looking closely, Sirius could see that Harry was muttering something, his wand repeating through a flicker of movements that might have been faster than the eye could catch if he wasn't doing it again and again. He kept dodging the fires almost as if he was dancing.

"Sirius, what is Harry's plan? He hasn't cast a single spell on the dragon." Hermione asked.

"He must have something up his sleeve." Ron said.

"I hope so." What was Harry doing?

The dragon was accelerating, and looking like he was about to pounce. Harry wouldn't be able to dodge. It jumped high into the air, powerfully flapping its wings while the whole crowd jumped as it looked as if Harry wouldn't be able to avoid the dragon. But as it began to near the end of its arc, Harry pointed his wand at it and grinned. An airy ripple blew across the crowd, expanding in a giant circle. Everyone could tell something magical had just happened. The dragon propelled itself backwards flapping its wings back at Harry, who walked slowly towards it as it landed and sat on its butt, like a dog being commanded to sit.

"What has he done." Sirius whispered in horror.

The crowd was silent as Harry walked over to the eggs and picked the golden one, walking back into the tent, though he looked increasingly fatigued from what Sirius could tell, vessels pushing out against his neck and forehead. With a celebratory smile on his face, he waved at the crowd, and it was only then that the crowd began to cheer.

The tension in the air fell when Harry returned through the Champion's Tent, it vanished without a trace, and it was only then that the audience could feel that some magic was at work.


	14. Chapter 14

**AN Taking a short break of a week to continue writing. I want to keep the quality as high as I can. A lot of the previous chapters I wrote in the middle of the night without too much thought.**

Fleur rubbed her silver pendant as she listened to the roars of the dragon. She had been having an upsetting week. Aimee and Michelle comforted her whenever she let her emotions show. The Veela aura didn't only incite lust, but could also spread misery and darken the atmosphere of whatever area they were in close proximity to. They told her she didn't even know him. But she knew she understood him. Not in a way that little girls felt about those mysterious men, with their black cigarettes and long woolen overcoats. The two of them spoke from the heart. She might not have shared too much with him and neither did he, but she could feel a level of connectedness she had never had with anyone before. What did she do wrong? She waited at the lake every night, even if every part of her body told her not to, she sat on that clearing and tapped her feet in the water watching the circles ripple outwards, wondering where he was and what he was thinking. Then, she'd kick the lake and throw her cigarette in it, and she'd return to her room, exhausted from the harsh training she went through during the day, and morose from waiting for someone that never came. The covers provided some shelter, hugging her lithe body, like her mother used to hold her before she grew older.

"He's a weirdo. Don't bother thinking about him. Even Cho said that no one could ever get close to him." Aimee had told her.

But she could, she did get close to him. She paid attention to her body and felt that she was bleeding on the inside, under her skin, as if it was boiling her pale skin. Fleur would lift her nightdress up and her pale body would look to her like it was blushing. Every book was filled with images of him, every picture, every boy she saw made her think of him. His gradual scent seeping through her nostrils, the tenuous wisps of his green smell blowing in, through, then scurrying from her memory.

The last few days it turned into resentment. Not so much as a goodbye. No appearances at dinner or lunch or breakfast even. It was so beneath her and childish to think like this, like a little girl whinging at her problems. She was the Triwizard Champion, one of the most promising witches in the entire Europe. If she won the tournament her father would give her the freedom she wanted, so that she could fulfill her dreams, and the dreams that her best friend had left for her. Dreams of travelling the world, and seeing the fishy docks of Hong Kong, the paddies of Bali, the beaches of the Maldives, and documenting all of it with her magic, so that others could see what she had seen. But what was travelling if there was no one there to experience it with you. There was always someone else. She would treat him like how she treated her.

Fleur watched as Harry walked back into the tent, almost in a daze, his handsome face puffy with fatigue, his green eyes almost black from the rings around them. He stumbled inside and collapsed, without thinking, she caught him.

"Fleur." He said, looking at her with a dumb smile on his face.

She glared at him, trying to transfer as much of her anger she could onto him. He looked saddened after the magic worked, forlorn. So now he understood.

"Harry! Are you alright?" Izzy shouted, pushing Fleur aside carelessly to hold him.

Fleur hadn't made up her mind on that girl yet, and proudly walked a few feet away to stand ready for her name to be called. Isabella Potter, her name so close to Fleur's middle, caused Harry so much stress, but she understood on a fundamental level that Harry put the strain on himself. Perhaps she should ask Isabella what Harry's deal was. But she had approached Cedric so many times already, it would be utterly humiliating to sink to that level. No, she had to focus on her task and to stop looking at Harry.

"I'm fine, Izzy. Don't worry about me." He coughed, trying his best to smile, accidentally glancing at Fleur who was still looking at him in scrutiny. It was hard for her to sustain her anger when looking at how terrified of her he looked.

As she readied herself again, a growling sound boomed above them, and as Fleur looked up she saw the entire tent ripped away to reveal the face of the Hungarian Horntail. Quickly looking around she saw that the handlers had been thrown aside in various places, looking up she saw the Professors running down the stands to help. She whipped out her wand, but, being so close the entrance of the tent, the dragon had caught wind of her and was about to attack her, she couldn't dodge, she was terrified. Its great claw threw itself out and was about to stab her. She had no thoughts except that she was going to die.

Harry threw Izzy off, drew his wand, and spun himself in front of Fleur throwing her back with a small spell, before the dragon's talons ripped through his body, suspending him in mid-air, blood splattering every like a balloon being popped. Fleur could see the end of talons pushing against his back, about to penetrate him entirely and gasped, her hands on her mouth. Izzy screamed.

Harry pointed his wand at the dragon and spoke words slowly, desperately flourishing his wand, and again an eerie feeling pulsed through the air. This wasn't the sleeping charm she had prepared. Harry was dominating the Dragon. How was he doing it? The dragon retracted its claws and Harry's body fell to ground in a lifeless thump, blood spilling from his wounds, pooling around him. Fleur sat beside him and conjured some clothing to put pressure on his wounds. But Harry's eyes quickly widened in surprise as the dragon seemed to resume his attack. He pulled Fleur towards him and, with what willpower he had left he whimpered, "I'm sorry". He then passed out. Fleur was panicking, trying to put pressure on the blood, and Isabella came to aid him, they were both in tears at the bloody and gruesome scene.

While they were trying to save Harry's life, the Professors had subdued the dragon, with Dumbledore waving his wand at the dragon who quickly fell asleep. The rest of them, together, lifted the Dragon away with levitation, while the Headmaster rushed inside, cast a diagnostic spell, and a spell that stopped the bleeding. While he did that, some other professors replaced the tent.

"And I've just received word from McGonagall. The remaining contestants are still all in good health. So the show will go on, thankfully! After that minor difficulty."

The crowd cheered.

"Poppy, it's up to you now!" The Headmaster snarled.

"Oh dear, year after year, he ends up in the hospital wing, and now a dragon?" Pompfrey fed him a potion and levitated onto a bed. "Severus, I'll need your help, we need to bring him into the infirmary."

Fleur starred in horror at Harry's lifeless face. Snape and Pomfrey left through the back of the tent, levitating Harry's body. Isabella was crying, and Fleur tried to follow them but Mr. Crouch stopped her.

"The show must go on."

"How can the show go on when my brother could be fighting for his life!" Izzy shouted.

Fleur had no real claim. She was the girl that Harry ditched. But she couldn't let him die. She couldn't.

Dumbledore patted Izzy's back. "I've examined his wound. Harry will be absolutely fine. Harry will be fine. It wasn't anything more than a flesh wound, no dark magic involved. Isabella, he's in the best of hands."

"I can't compete like this, Professor. I can't." Izzy sniffled.

"You must, Isabella, I'm so sorry my girl, but the Goblet binds you to. I promise that I'll do everything I can to ensure that Harry is fine. If you fail to compete than the people that Harry has been trying to find will succeed in their objectives." Dumbledore left to follow them.

She had to be strong for Harry's little sister. As soon as she finished her task she would take care of Harry, and protect him from whatever enemy he was speaking of.

Fleur walked up to Izzy who was still sobbing and gave her a comforting look. "He would have wanted us to compete to the best of our ability. Let's do that, shall we?" She smiled and pushed some of her magic in Izzy, trying to calm her.

Izzy rubbed her eyes and nodded.


	15. Chapter 15

In the Chamber of Secrets.

"Kill her. You told me you wanted a life of your own. Do it. Do it now!"

"I can't. I love her. I can't."

"You can, kill her and be free."

He edged closer with a makeshift knife as Lockhart disarmed him.

"Stop! In the name of justice!"

"I can't control my body anymore. Kill me." Harry struggled to speak.

Izzy woke up and turned towards Harry. "Harry?"

* * *

Harry woke with a start, straining to grab at his stomach that seared in pain. A familiar set of pale hands pushed him down so he wouldn't claw at his wounds.. He tried to struggle but he couldn't. The slender fingers pressed against his chest (which he had no strength to resist) and stretched his torso which soon allayed the pain.

"Stay still." She shook her head lightly. "I can't believe your luck. The dragon should have killed you but it missed every vital component of your body."

That was nearly impossible. Even him, with was enchanted magical core could only control the dragon to perform crude actions, refined control was an ability accessible only to the most competent of wizards and witches. How was he still alive?

"Where's Izzy, is she alright?"

"She's fine, she passed the trial with a broomstick, can you believe that?"

Harry's face was filled with sweat as he relaxed his body and the fingers left his chest. Fleur went back to sit beside him, her chin proning carelessly on her hand, her eyes looking tired but still beautiful. Gosh she was pretty.

"Like a drawing."

Fleur tilted her head in question, her silver ponytail flinging gracefully to his right as she did. "Pardon?"

Harry smiled happily. "Hi. So you've been taking care of me?"

"No. I just dropped by to see how you were doing." She said, embarrassed, playing with her pendant.

"How long have I been here?" Harry, looked around the hospital wing to see that it was nighttime and Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be found.

"Around a week, I suppose, since the incident happened." She said shyly. Pointing at an elixir on the side, Fleur said, "Drink this, it was personally brewed by your Professor Snake for your consumption."

"I'm glad you're here." He reached out to and tried to hold her hand, but she kept them steady on her lap.

"Are you? I know you've been avoiding me."

"I'm…" Harry began but didn't finish. He had been avoiding her. The times rolled by without a blink and in a blink he left her behind somewhere, in a compartment, shut off, its light peeking in between the spaces of its shutters. There was work to be done. She was for him, selfishly, and nothing else. But gosh was she pretty, with her eyes and her arms perfectly straight, soft but hard as well, no curvatures of unneeded weight, was he superficial for thinking so? Why did he close her off? It was after she beat him in a duel. That was when he knew he wasn't good enough for her.

"You'll be happy to know you've beaten me in the First Task. Since you need to feel superior to me in order to spend any time with me."

"I don't need to feel superior."

"Really?" She scoffed. "I don't think I believe that." Fleur's looked away from him.

"I thought you wouldn't like me because I looked weak." Harry admitted. "Why would someone like you want to spend time with someone that isn't extraordinary? Someone that continuously surprises and impresses you. That's what you deserve." He gazed around her face and then onto the bed, ashamed.

"It isn't up to you to decide what I deserve." She said seriously, but her face relaxed. Fleur looked like she was relieved. She laughed joyously. "For someone so smart you can be such an idiot."

Fleur stood up from her chair and pushed Harry to the side of the bed, who grimaced in pain as he rolled his body over. When she saw his expression, she kissed him lightly on the cheek and he smiled through the discomfort. She opened the covers and laid next to him, facing him while she was in the fetal position, her long legs wrapping over his. He could feel her hot breath on his ear, smelling of fruit.

"Did you just eat something?" He asked.

Fleur put her hand up to her mouth and blew. "I had some fruit, does my breath smell?" She asked self consciously.

"Like strawberries." He said, pushing himself so that he could lie facing her, his body perpendicularly aligned. "Ouch." He grumbled.

"You shouldn't put your body through more pain."

"I wanted to see your face." He smiled excitedly.

Fleur giggled. "I think that statement deserves a kiss." She leaned and pressed her lips against his gently, leaving behind a blushing and happy Harry, before pulling away and looking at his face, brushing his hair away with her hand and smiling contentedly.

Above them a bare hanging lamp, more orange than brown, enchanted to be just bright enough so that they could see, swung lightly as a breeze pushed through the windows. The room was otherwise dark.

The two looked at each other in the bright black, giving each other kisses every few moments, while their hands wrapped around each other's. There was so much intimacy in their caresses, lingering touches, tickling brushes up and down the arms, Harry's hand wrapped around her cold face. She undid her ponytail suddenly and her tresses fell like a waterfall of silver. Harry pulled her hair to his face, playing with it, smelling the garden of orchids and lavenders.

"I haven't washed my hair today. I usually wash it before I see you." She said, taking his hand and playing with it. "Does it smell bad?" She asked, her lashes fluttering like a butterfly, her expression expectant.

"It smells wonderful." He said. "You always smell wonderful to me. I've never seen anyone as beautiful as you my entire life. And you're strong and intelligent, better than me, and you paint, and read books and poetry. You've travelled and have seen so much more than I have," he sighed,"You're like a beautiful film that I'm perusing through and through. I'm able to glimpse at true colors and strokes of emotion. Fleur, I'm not supposed to have this. You deserve someone more." Harry smiled sadly.

Fleur was swooning, blushing thickly all over her face. There was a delicate expression on her face, and she blinked her eyes slowly. "If I make you feel so wonderful than you can have me."

"I need to take care of Izzy. I can't have you." He said solemnly.

"I'll take care of her with you." Fleur declared.

"Will you?" Harry asked.

"Of course." She replied, drawing him in for a kiss.

"Fleur. I know we haven't known each other long, but, I think I'm in love you."

She squealed with delight in a way uncharacteristic of her. Her face was burning red. Harry panicked for a moment, was she here just to make him admit that before leaving him?

Fleur saw Harry's frightened expression and immediately resumed stroking his neck.

Harry nodded. "So you weren't here just to see if you could make me fall in love with you?" He asked.

Fleur laughed again before kissing him. "What do you think?" She asked brightly.

"Do you feel the same way?"

She maneuvered herself so that her lips were at the cusp of his ear, brushing his lobes, before whispering, "Of course I do. I love you, Harry Potter."

"Are all those flowers and cards for me?" Harry asked, his eyes gazing at the table next to him.

"I think the word got out of what happened."

This one is from Cedric.

Dear Harry,

Hope your injuries heal quickly. Enjoy the chocolate frogs.

Love,

Cedric

Harry reached for the chocolate frog, eating it and opening it to see a picture of Dumbledore.

"Can I trust you?"

"Of course you can." She said as she stroked his hair in a loving way, her fingers wading through the black foliage. "Now tell me, how did you suppress the dragon."

"Do you know how magic works, Fleur, of course you do?"

"We utter the true names of objects, creatures in order to affect change unto them. To control the world is what magic provides for us."

"Then you can guess what I had done."

Fleur turned pale for a second. "You discovered the true name of the dragon?"

"I have spells to find out but the incantation takes about 5 minutes of time. The control itself. Forget about it. I could barely manage to keep it in check for the few minutes I had to grab the golden egg. I could feel my magic core straining itself. "

"These spells. They were taught to you by Grindelwald weren't they?" She sighed.

Harry nodded. "Unlike Voldemort, Grindelwald was always much more interested in reviving the magical race, whether that be creatures or wizards and witches. He lead with charm and power, not with things like the Imperious curse or the Killing curse."

"You must have exhausted your magical core then. You may never be able to cast a spell again." Fleur said gravelly.

"Perhaps in another universe. But I've made preparations." Harry said trying to sound brave.

"What preparations?" She asked urgently.

"Come with me."

Through the damask hallways of Hogwarts, holding a lamp, Harry led Fleur up the three floors to the Room of Requirement. They walked together slowly, with Fleur helping Harry by propping him up (since he was still weak from being impaled by the dragon's claws.) Each step felt like he was being pierced by a hundred arrows, but still he persisted.

"This Room fulfills any Requirement? That's some magic." Fleur cooed.

Harry laughed and paced the floor with great distress three times to summon open the door. A magical doorway appeared and they entered the room together. Within the dimly lit room, there was a pentagram drawn with unicorn blood and magical runes scribed onto each of its ends.

"What is this place, Harry?" Fleur said out weakly.

"Whatever happens, do not stop me from doing this. Can you promise me that?"

"Yes."

"Take this glass of water and these bread rolls." Harry summoned food and drinks for them, "I'm going to need them. And no matter what, do not interfere until I've finished."

"Fleur, when you hunt evil, you become acquainted with the Devil. You begin with empathy - when you try to understand what conceived this manifestation to fight it better - but it doesn't stop there, it spreads, and infects your life. Soon you become unable to separate your work from your personal life, and the contamination metastasizes, like a cancer. You find yourself doing things your enemy did in order to survive. Again and again until your old self dies and you replace the demons you hunted- I'm afraid that one day that'll be me."

"Not while I'm here, love. I will always be the wisp of a light that guides you away from that darkness." Fleur said, eyes blazing.

Harry took his shirt off and stepped onto the middle of the pentagram and began chanting before, to Fleur's astonishment and fear, he cut off the pointer finger of his left hand, which vanished as soon as it left his hand. The room begin to shake with magical power as Harry's voice crescendoed in a chant. The process lasted for at least an hour with red and blue lights flashing out from Harry's body, like a show of fireworks, blinking and bursting out of him, with waves of force pushing Fleur's hair back. Harry finally collapsed onto the floor, with runic tattoos engraved onto his torso..

Fleur ran over to Harry and cradled him in her arms, feeding him the water and the bread as he breathed very softly, as though he hadn't much strength left. He coughed out some blood which stained the white nightdress that Fleur was wearing.

"What did just do, my love?" She cried, stroking his hair.

"I expanded my magical core. Blood magic requires sacrifice, darling." He ate the rolls of bread, attempting to hide the pain he felt and the dysphoric grief of losing a part of your body. Waving his wand with his right hand he conjured and wrapped his finger up with bandages.

There was a terrible glow that permeated every inch of the room, a stagnant light that seemed to hold everything still, everything in place. The room was bereaved of furniture and had only the pentagram and the two embracing lovers holding onto to each other, one of them furious and the other happier than he had been for a long while. Each was desperate for each other in their own way: Fleur for fear of Harry's injury; Harry for happiness that he could match Fleur for power now and had become her equal.

"Now I can protect everyone. Now I'm strong again." He laughed, louder and louder until his voice turned into a cackle.

"You should not have done that." Fleur said, seriously.

"What do you mean? Now I can save anyone I need to. If I had been this powerful my parents might have been able to escape, those children might not have had to die. I would haven't have had to suffer for all those years. Sirius would never have entered Azkaban!"

Fleur was speechless, her concern and maternal instinct more powerful than ever before. So moved was she that tears had started to gather in her eyes. Just what did this man she love have been through. She truly did not understand, and thus her reaction was one of frustration,

"Did you even check with your grandfather before performing the ritual?

Harry was silent, he did not.

"Did you consider how you would lose an entire finger?" Fleur was growing in anger and pulses of magic emanated from her chest.

"What's a finger compared to the lives of Izzy or you!" Harry argued.

"That's not for you to decide."

Fleur grabbed Harry and hugged him tightly, holding the bandage to his wound and kissing him again and again on his face. "You drive me crazy, you know? You'll never have ten fingers again."

He panted with a faint smile on his lips. Harry could feel his power grow. Even Snape would no longer be a match for him. "It's okay. I am not left handed."

Fleur bursted out laughing despite the tears dripping out from her eyes, trying to hold it in with her long, pale fingers.


End file.
